


All Aboard The Despair Train

by SANS_TITRE



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Blood, Death, Developing Relationship, Dialogue Heavy, Execution, Fangan Ronpa, Fluff, Friendship, Investigations, Killing Game (Dangan Ronpa), Multi, Murder, Murder Mystery, Robots, Sci-Fi Elements, Slice of Life, Trials, closed space
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:08:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 74
Words: 329,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24453421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SANS_TITRE/pseuds/SANS_TITRE
Summary: France, 2020. In a seemingly peaceful world, drowning in pollution and blighted by a pandemic, the Grand Talent University is revered by all as a beacon of hope and a symbol of modernity. Yet despite the circumstances, eighteen gifted students find themselves captured, and forced to kill each other by their (clearly insane) headmaster. Despite the claustrophobic setting and the constant threat of death, Lisa Mercier, the ultimate cyclist, fights to keep everyone united. It's a story about horror, betrayal and loss, but also about love, trust and friendship, a tiny pocket of humanity lost inside an ocean of madness.Prologue: COMPLETEPart 1: COMPLETEPart 2: COMPLETEPart 3: COMPLETEPart 4: COMPLETEPart 5: COMPLETEPart 6: IN PROGRESSEpilogue: NOT STARTEDArt of the characters (done by me): https://www.deviantart.com/sans-tltre/gallery
Relationships: OC/OC
Comments: 267
Kudos: 31





	1. Summer Cycling

The road was quiet, except for the sound of the bicycle's wheels. The sun was barely rising, and yet the heat was already strong, making the air heavy and moist. Lisa didn’t mind, despite the fact that she was wearing a heavy surgical mask, and that she had been cycling for two solid hours. She was quietly humming as she gazed at the tall trees that flanked both sides of the roads, accompanied by the loud buzzing of insects.

Today was the big day. A month ago, Lisa had received a letter from _l’Université des Grands Talents_ , or Grand Talent University (GTU). It was the most prestigious establishment in France, it only recruited young adults of ultimate level. With the letter, Lisa had received the title of ultimate cyclist, along with a free train ticket. Her aunt had been so proud she had started crying. Lisa had sort of expected the letter, but she had pretended to be shocked anyway. She had felt grateful: the title of ‘Ultimate’ meant that one’s reputation went from weirdo to celebrity in a flash. Well, not exactly – it was true that most ultimates were actually big weirdos, and celebrity rarely did anything to fix it (rather, it made it worse). But the public was quite fond of its ultimate weirdos, so it was okay.

And Lisa was quite the weirdo herself. She was not only very good at cycling, she was completely _obsessed_ with it. She actually spent more time on the road than at home, owned at least ten different bikes, which she had all given names to. She had only brought her favorite with her (her trusty Damoclès), but she hoped the GTU would have some new models for her to test out. They had pretty high funds, so that was to be expected.

Suddenly, the railway station was in sight. Lisa was early: the train wasn’t scheduled to leave until a few hours. Still, it wasn’t like she had anything else to do with her morning. She had wrapped up the goodbyes as fast as possible, and fled from home right away. Lisa wasn’t really good with goodbyes. It had been a three hours ride from her home, but it didn’t mean much from her. There were so many muscles in her legs, they might as well be made of steel.

She set her bike against a wall, and sat on a bench, bouncing excitedly. There was only one train in the station: a huge red train, which reminded Lisa of the _Hogwarts Express_. Except it looked more like a modern train, all flashy and smooth. The doors and walls had been expertly painted, representing portraits from some of the most important historical figures in the history of the GTU. Lisa recognized a few of them, and smiled as she imagined her portrait added alongside those.

Distant footsteps. Lisa turned her head to the left. Someone was coming! Another student, perhaps? She could barely see them, for they were standing in front of the blazing morning sun, which colored all the clouds in pink. Quite the way to make an entrance, she thought.

As the person grew closer, she realized that they were quite large and tall. Oho, could they be one of the muscular types? It seemed there was one in every class at the GTU. What would it be this time? Ultimate construction worker? Ultimate weight lifter?

A cloud moved, partially blocking the sun, and suddenly Lisa could see the guy better. He wasn’t only tall and large, but very fat as well. He had a round face, a big round belly, even his hands looked round. He was wearing a yellow hoodie with little bear ears on the hood, and his face mask was hand-painted with a cute cat face, complete with whiskers. His eyes were a little small, but despite that (and the fact that his face was hidden), Lisa thought he looked rather cute.

‘Hi there!’ She said cheerfully. ‘You’re one of the students?’

The guy appeared to be a little surprised by her sudden outburst. Lisa had suddenly jumped up on the bench, waving her arms to greet him.

‘Uh, hello,’ he said. (Oh, his voice was really sweet, like white chocolate. She liked him already.) ‘Nice to meet you, yes, I’m one of the students. Uh… are you?’

‘Yes sir! Lisa Mercier, ultimate cyclist, pleasure to meet you!’

She gestured toward her bike, as if he was somehow going to make the rest of the presentations for her.

‘Oh, I think I’ve heard of you!’ The guy replied excitedly. ‘You were on the news a few months ago, right? When you broke the world record for the person who can stand up on a moving bike for the longest!’

Lisa blinked.

‘Yep, that’s true, but… that wasn’t months ago. It was years ago, my dude.’

‘Oh. Was it now?’

‘Indeed. I’m kinda surprised you remembered it.’

The man blushed a little.

‘Well, let’s just say… I admire athletic people a lot, and… I thought that was really impressive.’

Lisa grinned. She couldn’t lie, she loved being admired. Still, she had yet to hear what that guy’s talent was – so naturally, she asked him. But oddly enough, the question made him blush and look away in embarrassment.

‘Uh, it’s a little ridiculous, honestly,’ he mumbled.

‘Is it?’ Lisa said curiously. ‘But if you were picked by the GTU, it must mean that it’s worth quite a lot! So… what is it? C’mon, spit it out!’

‘All right. My name’s Ryoji Sorrentino, and I’m the ultimate hugger.’

Lisa blinked, then laughed. Ryoji laughed with her, nervously.

‘That’s… really not what I was expecting, honestly,’ she said, crossing her arms. ‘But I’m even more curious now. What is it about your hugs that’s worthy of the title ‘ultimate’? I guess they’d have to be pretty special… oh wait, silly me! You don’t need to explain, just show me! Let’s hug, Ryoji!’

‘Huh? You mean, now? But… with the virus and all, is that safe?’ He asked frighteningly.

‘Oh, right. It’s okay, I’m actually immune!’ Lisa replied cheerfully. ‘I contracted it a few months ago, so I’m all good. Hug me all you like! Well, only if you want to, that is.’

Ryoji nodded, and opened his arms. God, he was so big. Lisa didn’t hesitate, and hugged him tightly. _God_ , he was soft. Extremely comfy, too. She rested her head against his neck, and breathed out. Once. It was… a strange sensation. For a little moment, the world seemed to disappear around her. Ryoji was warm, but not uncomfortably so. He smelled real nice, too. It was like being in a comfortable bed, in a nest of blankets and cushions. It felt safe.

Ryoji let go not a moment too soon nor too late. He knew she had had enough, and so did she. It was a quite pure, and un-ambiguous experience. Definitely worthy of the title ultimate, yes, yes. She’d have to do that again.

‘I… I’m good, am I not?’ Ryoji said, a little timidly. ‘I can also sing little lullabies, to calm people down when they need to. People say I’m quite good at that.’

‘So, truthfully, you’re more like… ultimate stress reliever, or something, right?’

‘I guess? I think the GTU found it funny to name me the ultimate hugger though.’

‘But wait, how did the GTU guys find out about you anyway?’

‘Oh, uh… it’s thanks to my sister, actually. She works as a therapist, and I’ve been helping her out, from time to time.’

‘Hugging the troubled clients, washing their sorrows away, huh,’ Lisa commented.

‘Pretty much. She said something like… ‘Wow Ryo, you’re amazing! The way you can comfort them, it’s like magic, almost!’ And then I begun working in prisons and stuff,’ he completed bashfully.

‘You’ve been hugging criminals?’ Lisa screamed, astonished.

‘Everyone deserves a hug,’ Ryoji replied defensively.

‘Oh, I don’t disagree. I just thought that was brave of you.’

Ryoji blushed.

‘A-anyway, that’s how the GTU must have heard of me,’ he concluded. ‘It made a bit of a stir in Paris, the newspaper even interviewed me a few times.’

‘I see! Hehe, that’s impressive. You must be a good person, Ryoji!’

The young man blushed even harder, and hid his face inside his hoodie. Lisa laughed again. She liked him a lot already.


	2. So many people!

A group of three students walked into the railway station. They were chatting among themselves. Lisa wondered if they knew each other. She ran to greet them, while Ryoji followed her, looking a little intimidated.

‘Hey folks! Lovely day for it, right?’ She shouted excitedly.

‘Lovely day for what? The heat is making everyone disgustingly sweaty, the sky is yellow because of the pollution, and this rat over there is eating garbage. Open your eyes.’

Though the words hadn not been adressed to him, Ryoji let out a tiny and ridiculous scream. Lisa tilted her head to one side.

The girl who had just spoken had a really plain face. She was neither pretty nor ugly, but something in the middle. Her hair was brown, she was fairly short, and dressed in all black. Her skin was rather pale, and she wore no face mask.

‘What’s wrong?’ Lisa replied, curiously. ‘Are you like that because you haven’t had your coffee, or are you just naturally rude all the time?’

Another yelp, again from Ryoji. It seemed he couldn’t handle conflicts very well. No biggie, Lisa’d have plenty of time to teach him. But currently she needed to focus on this girl.

‘I don’t like her,’ the girl said, sounding a little disgusted. ‘Can someone make her go away?’

‘Don’t third-person me, whoever-you-are!’ Lisa snapped. ‘I asked you a question.’

The girl didn’t reply, but turned around so that she no longer had to face Lisa. It was a bit of a childish reaction, so Lisa chuckled.

‘Now please, do not fight,’ another man said.

He was a blondie with short hair, wearing some sort of strange brown robe. His mask was also brown. He had cute freckles, and some peculiar face tattoos, which looked like celtic markings.

‘Who are you?’ Lisa replied. ‘That’s an odd way to dress up.’

‘Right. That is because I am the ultimate priest, you see.’

He spoke slowly and clearly, articulating each word with care. He had a really nice voice. Lisa wanted him to speak more, just so she could hear it again.

‘That’s how priests dress?’ She asked eventually, unable to find a better question.

‘Well, some of them,’ the guy replied, calmly.

‘And what’s your name?’

‘I am known as Lucien Paradis, pleasure to meet you.’

He joined his hands and saluted her. Lisa was pleased to do the same, and Ryoji followed them up, awkwardly. The girl in black had walked away, and was now staring at the art on the train’s door.

‘So uh… who is she?’ Lisa asked while pointing her finger, in a rather un-discreet way.

‘From what I heard, she is known as Roberta Kruger, the ultimate thief.’

‘Ultimate thief?’ Ryoji echoed, fearfully.

‘Well good thing I’m not carrying anything worthy!’ Lisa replied happily. ‘Or I would have been totally screwed!’

‘Well, she told us that she does not merely rob people for fun,’ the priest guy corrected. ‘She said that she took up jobs, or to put it more accurately, _commissions_. Thus, we need not fear her, see?’

‘Oh, makes sense. Wow, you’re really useful Lucien! Thanks for the infos.’

‘My pleasure.’

Lisa then introduced herself, and did Ryoji’s introduction too. She praised his hugging talent and recommended that Lucien tried it out, which he politely agreed to do. Ryoji looked a bit flustered, but obliged. Lisa then turned her attention to the third person, which she had completely ignored up to that point.

‘Who are you?’ She asked bluntly.

‘Oh, you’ve noticed me now?’ The girl replied, feigning detachment.

‘Oh, don’t be like that. Mister priest had my attention, but you have to admit you don’t see a guy like him every day!’

‘And I’m just plain and boring, right?’

‘Well, I dunno. Tell me who you are, and we’ll see from there, eh?’

‘Fine. Julie Gardet, ultimate hairdresser.’

‘Oh, neat.’

‘Don’t lie to me,’ Julie replied coldly. ‘I can already tell my talent bores you.’

‘Well… that’s true,’ Lisa admitted. ‘But good for you! Cutting… people’s hair, and stuff.’

‘Please go away.’

‘Okay.’

That’s fine, Lisa thought. You don’t have to get along with everyone. You got Ryoji and priest boy, that’s two potential friends already. Everything’s fine.

Another group of people had arrived. Among them, one very tall guy stood out much more than the others, however. It seemed Ryoji had noticed him too.

‘Hey, Ryo, look! More people! Let’s do introductions, yes?’

‘B-but, it’s… you know him, right?’

Ryoji was blushing furiously. Not that Lisa could blame him. The man in the middle, that was undoubtedly Alexander Grayson, the ultimate beauty. He was famous for being one of the most beautiful people in the world. Of British origin, he had moved to France because he needed ‘a country as beautiful as himself’, or something like that. He worked as a full-time actor, but Lisa had seen a few of his movies, and he really wasn’t that good in her opinion.

Still, he was really gorgeous, so how could she hate him? That was the cruelty of beauty: it made people love you even when you didn’t deserve it.

‘Hey dude!’ Lisa said.

‘Hi,’ Ryoji added in a tiny voice.

‘Why, hello to you both!’ Alexander replied in a loud, booming voice (had he been practicing?). ‘Who do I have the pleasure to meet today?’

Lisa noticed he wasn’t wearing a mask either. Well, that made sense: beauty like his, it’d be a crime to hide it, surely? Still, that was quite selfish of him. She introduced herself and Ryoji again, but didn’t advertise the hugs this time. Alexander didn’t introduce himself because he didn’t need to.

As for his face, how to describe it? Perfect proportions, perfect nose, perfect eyebrows. Milky blue eyes which reminded Lisa of the ocean. A light beard, clean and fluffy blond hair, teeth so white they seemed to glow. Perhaps a touch of makeup, but barely visible. He smelled very nice too, but not like Ryoji. Ryoji smelled of… warmness, milk and biscuits (or something like that, because Ryoji’s smell was more a _feeling_ than a real smell, per se), while Alexander smelled of flowers, manliness and power. Or something.

Lisa spent a while admiring Alexander, which the guy seemed to enjoy very much (he even flexed his muscles a bit). Then she moved on to the other people, bringing Ryoji with her. He was still a little red.

‘Hey people! I see… three faces. Mind introducing yourselves?’

A very short girl, mostly hidden underneath a blue cap gave Lisa a toothy grin.

‘Hiya!’ She said energetically. ‘I’m Typhaine Hagier, the ultimate soup maker!’

She seemed very proud of her talent, but Lisa raised an eyebrow. That was… oddly specific, she thought.

‘So… you make good soup? That’s it?’

‘Yuuup!’

‘Oh, I see.’

‘I’ve heard of you, Typhaine,’ Ryoji said timidly.

He looked pretty excited, which Lisa found a bit odd. Sure, it wasn’t extraordinary for a fat guy to be into food, but… soup? Really? Wasn’t all that exciting in her opinion.

‘Oh, you did? Little old me?’

Her surprise appeared to be genuine – or she was just a very good actress.

‘I read about you online,’ Ryoji explained. ‘I tried a few of your recipes, and it was delicious! I uh… hope that’s okay,’ he added shyly.

Typhaine’s eyes lit up, and she clapped her hands excitedly.

‘I can’t believe you tried my recipes! You’re so cool! Can I… hug you?’

Ryoji made a little noise, similar to a whimper. He looked both scared and excited.

‘That means a yes,’ Lisa said with a thumb up. ‘Knock yourself out, Typhaine! Oh, by the way, Ryoji’s the ultimate hugger, so you’re in for the best hug of your life, trust me.’

‘It’s not that good-’ Ryoji started.

‘Shut up, it is,’ Lisa cut in.

‘Oh boy, I can’t wait!’ Typhaine replied, jumping in his arms.

While they were happily hugging (Ryoji was mumbling something about social distancing that nobody was really listening to), Typhaine looked at the two other students.

‘So, anyone wishes to speak first?’

They were both guys, who exchanged an uncertain glance. One of them seemed to feel a little awkward, while the other merely looked bored.

‘Okay, uh… lefty, speak first,’ Lisa ordered, hoping to accelerate the process.

‘Me?’ Said the guy on her left. ‘Whose left are we talking about?’

‘Who cares?’ Lisa replied. ‘Get on with it!’

‘Fine. I’m Jean, Jean Fourneret. I’m the ultimate smoothie maker.’

‘Whaaaaat?’

The shout came from Typhaine, who had just finished hugging an even redder Ryoji. She was looking at Jean with incredible excitement. That seemed to make him a little uncomfortable.

‘We have an ultimate smoothie maker _and_ an ultimate soup maker?’ She squeaked. ‘What are the odds?’

‘Uh, indeed,’ he replied, looking away.

‘We’ll have to share some recipes, please please, we must! I mean, our talent is almost the same, after all, right?’

‘You’re not wrong I suppose.’

‘That sounds like a lovely talent you have.’

That comment was from Ryoji. Always the food enthusiast, that one. The smoothie guy thanked him, but he didn’t appear to appreciate the compliment all that much.

‘So who are you?’ She asked the third person, while Typhaine bothered Jean about smoothies.

‘Florian Finistère. Ultimate florist.’

‘Nice,’ Lisa replied. ‘Anything else you wish to tell me?’

‘No.’

‘You… don’t even wish to know who I am?’

‘I will find out soon enough, I guess,’ he replied, gesturing vaguely.

Lisa was extremely disappointed. Those aloof types always angered her a little. Good thing Typhaine was there to bring a little energy into the group.

‘Say, who is that guy over here?’

Ryoji again. He was pointing to a man who was sitting on the floor, resting his back against the station’s brick wall, busy rolling a cigarette. He looked a lot like a hobo, so Lisa doubted he was actually an ultimate student. Still, what was he even doing there? She was curious, so she went and asked.

‘Hey there. Who are you?’

Simple as that. Lisa rarely bothered with formalities. Ryoji seemed a little shocked by her bluntness, but said nothing.

‘Hey,’ the guy said with a rather lazy wave, and a friendly smile (another one not wearing any mask). ‘Name’s Robert Harding, but everyone calls me Bob. I’m the ultimate hobo, or something.’

‘What?’ Lisa repeated, in shock. ‘Ultimate… hobo? What does that even mean?’

‘I got no idea, man. Received the letter a week ago. It was handed to me properly by a man in a suit, had never seen him in my life. Says the ultimate uni of stuff could have me as one of their students, but I don’t have to come if I don’t wanna. Figured I’d give it a try.’

‘But… how come being a hobo is a talent?’ Ryoji asked, sounding puzzled.

‘I’ve wondered about that. Guess it’s about… being resilient or some shit.’

Lisa nodded.

‘The capacity to adapt to a difficult situation, to find means of survival, forging bonds with those in the same predicament, that’s actually probably worth quite a lot, if exploited well.’

‘Would you know?’ Bob asked curiously.

‘Kinda. I’ve never been homeless, but I’ve been _away from home_ quite a lot, sometimes with barely anything to go by. So… not exactly the same thing, but close enough I guess?’

‘Cool man, cool,’ the guy said with a nod. ‘Want a cig?’

‘No thanks. I need my lungs in perfect order if I want to remain a good cyclist!’

‘Makes sense.’

Bob didn’t smell all that good, but Lisa could hardly blame him. She figured he hadn’t showered in… well, how did hobos even wash themselves? She had never asked herself the question before, but now she kinda regretted not tossing them coins more often. Aside from the smell, he had a pretty big nose, very cute brown eyes, a rather large beard, and messy hair tied in a dirty ponytail, partly hidden underneath a torn beanie. He was wearing multiple layers of clothes, probably to protect himself from the cold (but in september? What in the world?). Quite an odd duck, but he looked really nice, all things considered. Yes, Lisa decided she liked him.

As for Ryoji, he looked like he was about to cry.

‘What’s the matter, big guy?’ Bob asked, sounding a little worried. ‘Caught something in your eye?’

‘No, I just… f-feel so bad for you,’ Ryoji replied (yep, definitely holding back tears).

‘C’mon bro, it’s not so bad,’ Bob replied with a smile. ‘I’m okay, really. It’s not so hard, living on the street. Well… actually, it is, but y’know. There’s good parts. You can give ol’ Bob a hug if it makes you feel better. I don’t have the corona, I swear.’

‘How would you know?’ Lisa replied curiously, while patting Ryoji on the shoulder.

‘Got it once,’ Bob replied.

Lisa nodded in understanding. Must have been a tough fight for him, she figured. Ryoji hugged Bob, which exclaimed something like ‘wow, this guy is softer than an ikea cushion!’ She turned around, and realized even more people had arrived. Must be everyone, or almost. She had read somewhere that there’d be eighteen students in her class.

‘C’mon Ryo, we got more people to introduce ourselves to!’

‘Wait, we didn’t tell Bob who we were,’ Ryoji said, wiping his eyes.

‘Oh right. My bad, how rude of me. I was so eager to meet everyone that I forgot poor ol’ Bob.’

‘’s’okay, man. Happens.’

She quickly told him her name, talent, and did Ryoji’s introduction too. Bob seemed very impressed by Ryoji’s talent, who looked like he was about to start crying again. Lisa wondered how anyone could be so sensitive. Must be bad for their heart, surely?

The next girl was coming toward them, and not the other way around. It was a nice change.

‘Hey people! I’m Rebecca Tonélo, ultimate swimmer! Lovely to meet you!’

She was quite tall, thin and flat-chested. Her skin was dark and smooth, her hair tied into two little buns above her head. She was wearing white shorts and a green tank top.

‘Hey Rebecca!’ Lisa replied. ‘High five!’

‘Sure, but why are we high-fiving?’ Rebecca asked.

‘Oh, uh… I just felt like it.’

‘Cool,’ the girl replied. ‘I got more people to see, so...’

Lisa introduced herself again, very fast, then finger-gunned Rebecca and moved on to the next person. She was doing great at this introductory business, she thought.

To her surprise, the next people she met were fighting. Well, more like arguing, but they seemed rather enthusiastic about it. There was a third person watching, who seemed to be enjoying himself a lot.

‘What’s the matter?’ Lisa asked the third guy, hoping he could summarize the argument for her and Ryo.

‘Oh hi,’ he said amiably. ‘You mean, what are they arguing about? Well, that guy calls himself the ultimate knight, and that girl’s the ultimate medieval historian.’

‘Wait, what? An ultimate knight, in 2020? Is that even possible?’

‘Apparently. He can probably explain what that means. Oy, Ferdinand! This girl wants to know what your deal is! Cut the fight for a bit, will you?’

The guy called Ferdinand stopped talking, and turned to look at Lisa. His face was… quite something. For one thing, it was very big. His chin especially, with a very noticeable split in the middle. His hair was a flamboyant red, falling in cascades on his back. And what he was wearing… well, that was a suit of armour, no matter how you looked at it. An apparently light and comfortable suit of armor, but a suit of armor nonetheless. And at his belt, was that a sword? Was that even allowed?

The guy stroke his moustache (which was absolutely huge), and smiled.

‘What, you wish to hear about my title, damsel?’

‘Sure,’ Lisa said with a shrug. ‘But don’t use flowery talk, I beg you.’

‘My name is Ferdinand De Soissons, from the noble family of Soissons, son of Richard de Soissons. Have you ever noticed how our world has lost its flame, lately? The virtues of the past have been ruined by our modern society’s flaws – computers, modern technology, machines, because of them we’ve lost our way. I realized that a few years ago, and I knew it was my duty to bring the world back to its proper state. I live a simple lifestyle, traveling from village to village, teaching the virtues of chivalry and helping those in need. That is what being the ultimate knight means.’

Lisa was a bit lost. Not that his speech didn’t make sense to her, but even among ultimate students, she hadn’t expected to meet such a weirdo.

The other girl was wearing a long night-blue coat, which seemed to be made of silk, and was decorated with a star pattern. Her brown hair was messy and tangled, and she had the tiniest nose Lisa had ever seen. She looked extremely frustrated.

‘I keep telling you, that’s just a bunch of nonsense! You are completely disregarding what is historically accurate about knighthood, and living a _fantasy_ , which basically equates to spreading _lies_ about our past, and-’

‘Come on, Magalie, so much anger does nothing for your beauty. I keep telling you, historical accuracy does not matter, as long as the feeling-’

‘What do you mean, _historical accuracy doesn’t matter?’_

“Magalie” had screamed that last part, looking positively enraged. Well, if she were supposed to be a historian, it made sense that she’d be upset.

‘And who are you?’ Ryoji asked the third guy, the one who was watching the fight from a distance.

And it was good that he did, too, because Lisa had almost forgotten about him.

‘Oh, me? Sébastien Rive, ultimate bowman.’

Sébastien had extremely heavy eyelids, a thin crooked nose, green hair in a bowl cut, and a pair of sunglasses tucked inside his collar. He was carrying his bow in a little blue bag, tied around his back.

‘Ah, now that’s a _cool_ talent!’ Lisa shouted. ‘You can shoot the very middle of the targets, just like in the movies?’

‘Sure,’ Sébastien replied with a smug grin. ‘I can shoot moving targets too. And if you shoot me with and arrow, I can even deflate it with another arrow.’

‘You’ll have to show us one day!’ Ryoji said, excitedly.

‘But of course. For now though, I’d like to keep watching the fight, so…’

‘Oh, right. Seeya then.’

Lisa looked around. People were moving around, chatting among themselves. It was a little dizzying. The train would be leaving pretty soon, but the doors hadn’t opened yet. And she still had some people to meet.

‘Ugh, that’s… way too many people. I’m going to forget half their names, I swear.’

‘Now now, we’re almost there,’ Ryoji said reassuringly. ‘Uhm… we haven’t yet talked to these people over here, have we?’

‘You’re right, we haven’t. Let’s go!’

They ran to join a group of four people, which Lisa greeted rather loudly. She basically shouted her own introduction, and then told them that it was their turn. They looked a little weirded out, but agreed anyway.

‘Well, greetings, I suppose,’ said a lady dressed in black and white. ‘I’m Suzie Plichon, ultimate midwife.’

She was wearing some sort of strange school uniform, with a checkered tie. Her black hair was covering her left eye. The rest was tied into a thick braid.

‘Oh, the job with the babies?’ Lisa said, pretending to be interested.

‘Yeah, the job with the babies. The job with the crying, the blood, the tears, the dads fainting, the fear and the stress, all that stuff. I’m an expert at it. Apparently.’

‘Good for you, uh… you don’t seem happy about that,’ Lisa said.

‘I don’t really like it, no. But since I’m good at it, it’s only logical that I don’t waste my talent, isn’t it?’

Lisa wasn’t really sure if she agreed with Suzie’s sense of duty, but nodded anyway.

‘What about the others?’

There was a very pretty lady, with blue hair and wearing an expensive dress. Lisa was staring at her intently, because she felt like she had seen her somewhere.

‘Hm? You don’t know who I am?’

She had an incredible voice, very rich and powerful, with a faint Spanish accent. Lisa sudden realized who she was.

‘Oh, you’re Jordana Castillo, the ultimate singer! Of course, that makes perfect sense. I forgot what you looked like, but it’s impossible to forget your voice.’

‘I love your songs,’ Ryoji added with a happy nod. ‘They make me very happy.’

‘My, what a candid compliment,’ Jordana commented. ‘Thank you, boy.’

‘Uh... I’m a man.’

‘Sure, sure. Technicalities.’

‘And who’re you, mysterious last person?’ Lisa asked, facing a very short guy with a pink side-cut.

‘I’m Bertrand Legrand, ultimate painter,’ he replied with a bow. ‘Um, yes. That’s who I am. I do not know what to add, honestly.’

‘Not used to seeing to many people at once, are you?’ Lisa asked, tilting her head to one side.

‘No, not really,’ he admitted. ‘I’m more of a... stay at home and paint all day kind of guy, really.’

‘Aw, that’s okay. I’ll stop bothering you.’

He mumbled something which sounded like a discreet ‘thanks’, and moved away. Lisa noticed that his back pockets were filled with various paint brushes. His jeans were covered with paint stains.

At this point, the train doors finally opened. Lisa checked her watch. It was supposed to leave in a minute! What a keen sense of precision.

‘Oh wait, where did I leave my luggage?’ She asked out loud.

‘That would be where I left mine, near your bike,’ Ryoji answered.

‘What a useful guy you are, Ryo!’ She said, punching his shoulder excitedly.

‘Ouch,’ he replied.

He did seem very pleased with the compliment, however. They both ran to catch their stuff, and jumped inside the train (the platform was unusually high). They were the last to get in, but as everyone ran to find the best seats, Lisa took a moment to appreciate the interior décor.

From what she could see, it was as red on the inside as the outside. Whatever that was about? She guessed the GTU loved the color red quite a lot.

She heard some footsteps coming from behind her. A girl was running in the sand, kicking little clouds of dust. She jumped inside the train right as the doors were closing. She had beautiful white hair, long and slightly curly. She was dressed like a soldier, and was carrying three extremely big bags. She was sweating and panting a little.

“Hi,” she said, catching her breath.

“Wow, that was close!” Lisa said. “You nearly missed it!”

“Everything was perfectly calculated,” the girl replied, dropping her bags, and regaining her composure.

She had quite a long nose, a very pink skin tone, looked a little chubby too. She extended a hand for Ryoji and Lisa to shake.

“Glad to meet you. I’m Aphrodite Persée, ultimate costume maker.”

“Oh, that explains the big bags!”

Lisa let Ryoji do the introductions this time, because she was tired of talking. The girl then saluted them, and left to meet the others.

Lisa wondered where she was supposed to go next. On her left, there were a bunch of seats, all covered in fluffy pinkish carpet. On her right, the door led to what seemed like a food wagon. She suddenly realized how hungry she felt. Talking to all these people was exhausting!

Hanging her bike on the hook, and putting her suitcase away, she ran toward the buffet. Naturally, everything was free. Oddly enough, however, no one was there to greet them. She would have expected a few official workers, or something. Well, not like it mattered. She grabbed a few large slices of bread and started applying generous doses of jam onto them. Ryoji was apparently helping himself to a bowl of cereals. The train was slowly leaving the station.

‘Boy, what a morning!’ Lisa exclaimed. ‘I’m not sure if I remember everyone.’

‘Me neither,’ Ryoji admitted shamefully. ‘Who did we meet first?’

‘The priest guy, right? He was called... wait, I can remember.’

‘Lucien,’ Ryoji said.

‘I knew it! Why did you spoil the answer?’

Ryoji mumbled an apology. The train left the station.

‘Then,’ Lisa continued, ‘there was the girl with the really boring talent. Right, ultimate hairdresser! I forgot her name and I don’t care.’

‘Julie,’ Ryoji whispered.

‘Aren’t we forgetting someone though?’

‘The girl in the black hood, the really pale one,’ Ryoji offered.

‘Oh right, the rude thief! Was she... Rebecca? Or Roberta? No wait, Roberta was the swimmer. Or was it the other way around?’

Ryoji shrugged.

‘Well, no matter,’ Lisa said. ‘I’m sure that we’ll know all their names by heart in a week! In the meantime, we can just remember the interesting ones.’

‘Like the knight, Ferdinand?’

‘Oh boy, that one was hilarious,’ Lisa said, snorting. ‘Also the historian girl, Magalie. She was funny, I think.’

‘And don’t forget Bob,’ Ryoji added, almost solemnly.

‘Right, Bob! Seems like a cool guy, for sure.’

They kept eating their breakfast. Lisa somehow expected Ryoji to eat ridiculous amounts of food, but his breakfast seemed stunningly average. Maybe genetics were to blame for his squishy tummy, or something like that.

After that, Lisa sat against the train’s door, admiring the landscape through the glass panels. Part of her brain registered that the train was strangely clean. Not a stain in sight, really! She’d have to thank someone for that, probably.

The trees and fields blurred past her, and as the french countryside unravelled in front of her, she quickly found herself nodding off. Somehow, her head found Ryoji’s body, and using it as a pillow, she rapidly fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have an imgur account where I dropped some sketches of what the characters look like if you're curious:
> 
> https://imgur.com/user/Guilhem9999/posts
> 
> It's only to give you an idea though, if you HC them a little different, have fun. Everyone hasn't been drawn yet, I'll update it as time goes. I don't know if I'm ever going to manage to draw Alexander properly though... ultimate beauty, that's a challenge.


	3. Meeting Monoblade

Sometimes, Lisa would wake up  _knowing_ that something was wrong. Her eyes would be closed, her conscience barely awake and functional, yet a primal instinct would warn her about a danger before she could even realize what was going on. But right now, wasn’t one of those times.

She woke up in Ryoji’s arms, and yawned. Then she wondered what she was doing in Ryoji’s arms. Sure, they were getting along fine, but it felt a little soon for this sort of thing, probably.

“Hi Ryo,” she said with another yawn. “You doin’ fine, bud?”

Ryoji was trembling slightly. Lisa frowned, and pulled herself away from his grip. What was wrong? Oh.

All the train lights were on, because some sort of heavy black lids were blocking the windows completely. The train had stopped, and thus she had no idea where they were. Well, that was certainly a little odd. The lights gave the train a bit of an eerie atmosphere, but it wasn’t like she felt threatened or anything. It was probably normal.

“Ryoji, you’re good? Answer me.”

“Hm? Oh, uh, hi.”

“Have you been... sitting here the whole time I slept?”

“Uh, yeah, why?”

“You didn’t want to chat with someone else?”

“Guess I could have.”

“You didn’t even _think_ about it?”

“I forgot,” he admitted, looking shameful.

Looking at him from a closer angle, Ryoji had some adorable freckles. He also had a tiny beard, or rather, a few loose bits of hair spread around his chin. She wondered why he hadn’t shaved.

“How long has it been?”

“A few hours, I’d say.”

“Huh. How fasts trains go, these days.”

Then, there was a little bell sound, and the speakers turned on.

_“This is a school announcement. All the students are_ _expected_ _to go to the_ _dining car_ _immediately. There, the situation will be explained to them in greater detail. Please, move quickly.”_

“ Convenient,” Lisa commented. “The  dining car is right next to us, so we’ll be there first.”

“But... the dining car is still empty,” Ryoji said, voice trembling. “Why is it empty, if that’s where we’re supposed to go?”

“Huh? Oh, uh, the guy probably hasn’t arrived yet. Does it matter?”

Ryoji didn’t reply anything.  The girl in the black hood was the first to arrive. Roberta was it? Or Rebecca? Lisa had forgotten. She looked quite displeased when she met Lisa’s eyes, and forced herself to look away. Lisa noticed that she was extremely thin. She wondered for a bit if the girl was underfed somehow, and who was responsible for that.

Next came Ferdinand, still followed by Magalie, the medieval historian. Despite her angry looks, it seemed she must enjoy his presence, at least a little, or she’d have gone to talk with other people by this point.

“Ferdinand is here!” Ferdinand announced, saluting.

“Knights didn’t use the military salute, you moron,” Magalie said, sounding frustrated. “And why do you need to announce your presence anyway? Everyone can see you.”

“I wouldn’t want people to forget my name,” Ferdinand replied, very seriously.

Magalie rolled her eyes.

“Oh, really now.”

“ Well met, Ferd!” Lisa said. “You’re one of the only students whose name I haven’t forgotten, so you can be proud!”

Ferdinand beamed, which was honestly really cute. Ultimate beauty Alexander was next to come in, smiling and waving while holding Jordana’s hand. Ryoji still looked worried, but he blushed anyway when he saw him.

“Hm? Hey Lisa, why is there no teacher in here?” Jordana asked curiously (her voice was still gorgeous, like fresh honey pouring down from a spoon inside a tea cup).

“I dunno! Me and Ryo were here first, but we didn’t see anyone. You think they might be hiding under the table or something?”

“I doubt it,” Jordana replied with a smile.

Her and Alexander made such a perfect couple. The talented singer, the gorgeous actor, it was hard to  _not_ look at them when they were together like this. They naturally occupied more space than  common people did, without being invasive somehow.

“Say Ryo, what’s bothering you?” Lisa asked as more people came in one by one.

“The windows, and the fact that there are no teachers here,” he replied in a whisper. “That’s not how it’s supposed to go.”

“Hm? How do you know how it’s supposed to go?”

Ryoji raised his eyebrows. Remarkably thick eyebrows.

“Because I watched the Ultimate Show a few times, and I know how the entrance is supposed to go.”

“The... the what?”

“Have you been living under a rock, Lisa?”

That was Sébastien, the bow dude. He was looking rather amused.

“Spying on conversations again, Seb?” Lisa said, falsely offended.

He shrugged.

“It’s what I do best.”

“No it’s not, or you’d be the ultimate conversation spyer, duh.”

“Is that relevant?” Ryoji asked shyly.

“ Not really,” Sébastien and Lisa agreed simultaneously.

“Anyway, what’s the Ultimate Show?” Lisa asked.

“Y’know how the GTU is super popular and stuff?” (Ryoji was making little gestures with his hand, to illustrate his point). “Each year, they shoot the moment when the students enter the school building, and there’s like... journalists to make interviews and stuff. For the ultimate fans out there. It’s really popular.”

“Oh, I see the problem now.” Lisa replied with a nod. “Where are they?”

“ Nowhere!  And that’s  a huge problem!” 

“ And t hat’s not the only thing that’s missing,”  Sébastien added. “Usually the school principal meets the students at the railways station and makes a big speech before they leave.  He’s supposed to present the academy floor plans, except which courses the students are expected to attend, among other things.”

“Okay, I get it,” Lisa said. “Basically, things aren’t following procedure. But that doesn’t necessarily mean something’s  _wrong_ , does it? The train is still here, and the GTU is such a big deal,  the security has to be super tight . It’s probably that... they decided to test us or something. Put us in a strange situation, see how we’d react, and stuff.”

“You... you really think so?” Ryoji said, sounding unconvinced.

“Well-”

Lisa  was interrupted  by a heavy object suddenly  falling onto the buffet  table , making a loud noise. Everyone turned to look at it, in shock. Ryoji had instinctively grabbed Lisa’ s arm for protection.

“What’s going on?” The thief girl said, angrily. “What’s this? You’re all blocking my view, I can’t see.”

“Fear not! Ferdinand will show you the way!”

Ferdinand was the closest to the buffet. He grabbed the object which had fallen, and inspected it curiously. Lisa couldn’t see very well, but it looked like some sort of plushie.

“ Well, what is it?”

That one came from boring hairdresser girl.

“Uh... a stuffed bear, I think.”

“No no, not any stuffed bear. It’s Monoblade!”

The voice had apparently come from the toy itself. Ferdinand screamed, and threw it far away. He was so shocked that he nearly fell on his butt. Thankfully, Magalie grabbed him before he could hit the floor. Wow, she was stronger than she looked.

Bob was the one who caught the plushie. It was bigger than a human head, and looked a little heavy.

“Uh, what is this?” Bob said, looking puzzled.

“Did it just... talk?” Typhaine asked excitedly. “Did they just send us a talking plushie?”

She was bouncing again, but when the “plushie” moved again, and gave her a deadly glare, she froze in place.

What an odd thing it was. It looked like a teddy bear, but the colors were split in two: red on the left, white on the right. To put it more accurately, one half of the bear looked like a normal teddy bear, while the other half looked like an angry demon of some sort.

“I can’t believe this,” the plushie said. “I barely even have time to say hello, and he  _throws_ me! How rude! Don’t you think so, Bob?”

“Uh... whut?” Bob said.

“Is this some kind of joke?” hairdresser girl said.

“ Who said that?” The bear screamed. “I’ll fucking cut you for calling me a joke!”

“What a loud thing,” Florian sighed, adjusting his glasses. “It’s probably some kind of mistake. We’re ultimate students, not preschoolers.”

The bear sighed. It jumped from Bob’s arms, then climbed back onto the buffet. Then it turned around to face the students.

“Okay. Let’s start again, shall we?”

“Start what?” Lisa asked.

“Explanations, dumbass.”

“Oh? Okay. Uh... hey Ryo, there weren’t any rude bear robots in the ultimate show thingy, right?” She whispered.

Ryoji didn’t dare utter a single sound, but he shook his head. Okay then. Interesting.

“Now. As I said already, my name is Monoblade, and I’m the director of the Grand Talent University. Nice to meet you all.”

“Nice to meet you,” Bertrand  (painter dude)  said politely.

“ Why are you playing along?” Rebecca (swimmer girl) asked incredulously. “It’s obviously some kind of prank. Right?”

“It sure seems like one to ol’ Bob,” said Bob.

 _Yes, especially considering I know who the director is, and she’s definitely not you,_ Lisa thought.

“Oh, I expected you to think that,” Monoblade said, rubbing his hands together. “But unfortunately for you, it’s not a prank! You see, my bright little geniuses, you have been abducted.” (Pause for effect). “By me! It was ridiculously easy. You idiots didn’t even ask yourselves any questions before boarding the train. Pathetic, if you ask me.”

“Hold on,” midwife girl Suzie said. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Really?” Said Monoblade. “How come?”

“Obvious. It’s the Grand Talent Academy, they’re not going to leave the train unsupervised. If we had somehow taken a different path, everyone would already know.”

“Hehe,” Monoblade said. “Hehehe.”

“What’s so funny?” Magalie asked, angrily. (Was she always angry?)

“Hehe. Suzie makes a valid point, does she not? But it’s dangerous to underestimate me. All I had to do was bypass the security cameras, and send the police some false orders. Crazy all the things one crazy maniac can do with enough money.”

Suzie frowned. A few of the students looked somewhat worried, or angry. Some of them, however, didn’t seem to care. Florian was yawning.

“Frankly, I admit that I am a little disappointed. I assume the university is testing us, but they could have found a less ridiculous way to do so. Who is going to believe such a bizarre story?”

“Obviously, no one will!” Alexander said, crossing his (beautiful beautiful) arms. “We are not stupid, after all, are we?”

“But why would the Grand Talent University produce such a grotesque story  in the first place?” Aphrodite (costume girl) pondered. “It’s quite obvious we wouldn’t believe it. There has to be more to this. It does seem like a test to me, but it is perhaps more complex than what Florian and Alexander seem to think.”

“Of course there’s more to this,” said thief girl. “We’re ultimates. They’re not going to go easy on us.”

Monoblade laughed again.

“Ah,  I love hearing these kinds of  talks . Is this a prank? Is there a greater meaning to my actions? What could I  _possibly_ be plotting?”

He sounded like a comedian, like some animator on a kid’s show, playing the villain’s role in a story about rivalry. His voice was modified to be untraceable – yet somehow it seemed oddly familiar to Lisa’s ears.

Ryoji was even more frightened than he had been before, and was shaking like a leaf. Lisa was not just holding him, she was nearly hugging him at this point. Still, all of her concentration was focused on Monoblade. She wanted to remember everything that he would say. She felt like it was incredibly important, somehow.

“ But all I speak is the truth!” Monoblade said. “Whether or not you want to believe me, there’s nothing you can do about it! You’ve all been abducted, and you’ll  _never_ go to the Grand Talent University!”

“Nonsense!” Alexander yelled (powerfully).

Jordana raised a hand to silence him.

“Assuming we believe you,” Aphrodite said. “What do you plan to do with us?”

Her voice was calm and composed. Lisa couldn’t help being impressed by her countenance.

“An excellent question! One point for the costume gal!” Monoblade shouted cheerfully. “My plan is quite simple. I will provide you food and means of survival, but you will never be allowed to leave this train! Ever!”

“But that’s just stupid!” Rebecca shouted. “What if we break the windows? We’ll be able to get out easily!”

“Sure, sure, you can try,” Monoblade said with a chuckle. “But you might want to take a look around first.”

He pointed to the windows. Just a moment ago, they had been covered with a thick black lids, but they had been removed. Outside were the ruins of a city: large buildings half collapsed on themselves, rotten and dusty. Lisa’s eyes widened.

“Lorient,” Ryoji whispered. “But... this can’t be!”

Lorient. A town in the west of France, in Brittany. Ten years ago, it had been the target of several assaults, including bombings. The whole region had been destroyed by modern warfare. Lorient was not only a ghost town, it was a nuclear waste: the air was so polluted and toxic that it could kill the average person in less than ten minutes. Even ten years later, the city was barred from entrance, and was considered one of the most dangerous places in the world.

It didn’t make any sense. By all means, they shouldn’t be here. There shouldn’t even be any train tracks that led there anymore. And yet the reality of what they were looking at was unmistakeable.

“ No way,” Magalie said. “No fucking way!”

“How could this beeee?” Ferdinand yelled on top of his lungs.

“What the hell, man,” Bob said weakly. “What the honest hell!”

“Stop yelling you morons,” Florian said, sounding annoyed. “It’s obviously fake. A setup.”

“Oh, breathe the air, and tell me if it’s a setup, flower boy!” Monoblade shouted happily.

No, he wasn’t simply happy. He was  _ecstatic_ .

“But why would you do this?” Ryoji cried. “Why?”

“No reason, really,” Monoblade replied with a shrug. “I just like when people suffer.”

“Calm down, everyone,” Aphrodite said (calmly). “Whether or not this is real, we simply don’t have enough informations at the moment, so there’s simply no point in getting so worked up.”

“Are you out of your mind?” Jean (smoothie boy) yelled. “Look at the window, see for yourself if this isn’t real! We’ve been kidnapped by a psycho!”

“Or the school is testing us, for unknown reasons,” Aphrodite replied calmly. “We know the GTU has more than enough money to produce such a setup, right? It’s not impossible that this is all fake.”

“But why would they do something like this?” Lisa asked. “What would be the point of making us feel despair? That’s just... twisted.”

“True, I don’t really understand it either. But I’m pretty sure the answers will come up eventually. Besides, even if this  _is_ all true, that doesn’t mean it’s the end for us. If you’re all so worried, you could just call the police. But if this  _is_ a test, as I believe, then...”

“Then calling the police would mean getting disqualified, right?” Suzie finished darkly.

“It’s a possibility,” she admitted.

“I don’t care if this is a stupid test, I’m calling the police anyway!” Rebecca screamed, ruffling through her pockets.

But she didn’t find her phone there. She searched her other pockets, removed her coat, and tried again, but to no avail.  She than ran out of the room, probably to look through her bags.

Lisa felt a shiver running down her spine, and checked her pockets as well. Her phone wasn’t there. Unlike Rebecca, she didn’t bother checking her bags: she knew she hadn’t left it there.

A few other students seemed to have reached the same conclusion. Magalie, among others, was glaring aggressively at Roberta.

“Hey, thief girl, this isn’t funny! We need our phones now, so give them back, and quick!”

All the stares fell on Roberta, who grabbed the edges of her hood in defense.

“It’s not me,” she replied coldly. “I didn’t take your stupid phones, why would I even do that?”

“You’re the ultimate thief, what do I know?” Magalie replied venomously. “ Just admit you did it!”

“No need to bully poor Roberta,” Monoblade said, getting everyone’s attention once again, including Rebecca who was coming back, empty handed. “I’m the one who stole your phones!”

“When did you do that?” Sébastien asked, raising an eyebrow.

“ When we all nodded off,” Aphrodite guessed.

“Wait, what do you mean?” Lisa asked, frowning.

“You guys felt tired too?” Typhaine asked, eyes wide with surprise.

Aphrodite nodded.

“Even though I felt perfectly awake just a moment before, at some point during the trip I suddenly felt the strong need to rest my eyes. When I opened them up again, the windows were all covered, and everyone seemed to be waking up around me. It didn’t feel like it could have lasted more than five minutes, but it might have been longer.”

“Oh, thanks for the explanation,” Lisa said. “I fell asleep as soon as we left, so I must have missed that.”

“Did anybody  _not_ fall asleep during the trip?” Bertrand asked, staring at the others.

Nobody said anything.

“That settles that, then.”

“Indeed it does!” Monoblade said cheerfully. “You guessed it right, well done! I slipped a sleeping drug through the air conditioning, and made you all take a biiiiig nap,” (he made a wide-armed gesture as he said ‘biiiig’). “Then I took the opportunity to steal any annoying objects you may have possessed! Phones and stuff like that. Dangerous items.”

“Dangerous items?” Magalie said. “But you didn’t take Ferdinand’s sword.”

“Indeed, you didn’t!” Ferdinand shouted, pointlessly.

“Or my bow, for that matter,” Sébastien added.

“ Oh, no, I didn’t. I felt like you might need that, actually.  Which leads me to my next point!”

“Oh boy,” Typhaine said. “I have a bad feeling about this one.”

“Let him speak,” Jordana said.

“Thank you.” (Monoblade bowed.) “So, as I was saying. You guys are all trapped inside this train, but it shouldn’t be a biggie at all. After all, you have every necessity: showers, plenty of food, beds, and stuff!”

“Beds?” Ryoji said. “Where?”

“Uh, well, not exactly beds, I guess. But the train seats will make good makeshift beds, I assume. Could be worse, honestly.”

Ryoji got paler, but didn’t say anything.

“Anyway. I can agree that eighteen people inside such a small train, can feel a little crowded! So if you really want to get out, there’s one easy solution.”

“I’m scared, I’m scared, I’m scared,” Typhaine said.

“Oh my god, shut up,” Jean replied, sounding at least as worried as her.

“What is it?” Alexander asked.

“You gotta murder someone!” Monoblade said cheerfully. “Any method is good, really. Strangulation isn’t very exciting, for example, but I won’t complain if you resort to that one. After all, it’s rather clean! But yeah, bludgeoning is much funnier, if I had to name one method.”

“What the fuck!” Lisa shouted. “You’re completely mad, bear!”

“What, you only notice now?” Monoblade replied, tilting his head to one side.

“I’m going to fucking destroy that bear,” Julie said coldly.

“Ah, no miss! That’s against the rules, you see!”

“I don’t care about your rules. Let me out of this right now!”

“Stop it,” Florian snapped. “This toy has further proven that he was spouting nothing but complete and utter nonsense. This is obviously some kind of joke.”

“And how do you figure that out, genius?” Julie replied, turning her head at him menacingly.

“Come  _on,”_ He replied, crossing his arms. “This is just  stupid .  We have no reason to believe any of it. ”

“Dunno about that,” Bob said. “Feels pretty real to me.”

“We all fell asleep at the same time, all our phones have been robbed, and there’s the matter of the view from outside. Hm. It’s getting harder and harder to deny the situation,” Sébastien said, sweating slightly.

“You’re all morons, that’s what you are,” Florian replied.

“Oh my god, just  _shut up_ already!” Magalie yelled.

“Huhuhu,” Monoblade said. “Isn’t Florian just the worst? Everyone hates him already! With his stupid glasses and his ugly green shirt, it’s like he _wants_ to be the first victim!”

“What?” Florian said, sounding just a little worried.

“Okay, I’m leaving,” Rebecca said. “This was a fun conversation, but I’m going to lie down, and hopefully when I  wake up and realize this is all a dream, we’ll have finally arrived at our real destination!”

She waited for an answer of some sort. There was none, so she turned around and began to walk away.

“Really now?” Monoblade said delightfully. “You’re going to leave the group?  _On your own?”_

She froze.

“Damn, you kids are not really good  at this, are you?” Monoblade added. “You’re all just  _begging_ to be murdered! Not that I care, mind you.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Lisa said. “He’s trying to scare us.”

“He’s succeeding!” Typhaine squeaked.

“ I’m actually not finished,” Monoblade said. “ In order for this game to work, we actually need to set a few rules. So, first things first! You’ll need your student tablets for that. Well, I actually call them Monopads, but that’s just me.”

“Why would we need that?” Aphrodite asked, curiously.

“They’re pretty handy tools. They let you see the train’s floor plans, you can take pictures with it, and even text each other! And of course, the rules are listed in there too. I slipped them in your suitcases, so go get them, and come back right away! C’mon, shoo!”

Lisa left the dining car, and went to open her suitcase. Ryoji was following her closely: it didn’t seem like he was going to leave her side any time soon. Not that she minded. She actually felt safer when he was around. Even though he didn’t seem like much of a fighter, truth be told.

Finding the monopad was relatively easy. When Lisa turned it on, her name appeared on the screen, along with her age and ultimate talent. She pocketed it, and returned to the dining car.

Monoblade was ordering everyone to open the “rules” file, unsurprisingly. Everything was pretty much as Lisa expected it to be: “do not attempt to harm the headmaster”, “do not attempt to break the windows or damage the train in any way”, “you are free to explore the train as much as you like”, etc. There was also a rule that stated that new rules could be added at any time.

“Naturally,” Monoblade said, “I’ll kill one of you if you break any of the rules! Because that’d just be unfair to everyone, and I wouldn’t want the game to be unfair.”

“ Kill us?” Sébastien said. “How, exactly?”

Monoblade pulled out a remote control from... somewhere, and pressed a button. The train’s roof opened, revealing a large amount of machine guns. Typhaine and Ryoji screamed at the exact same time. Lisa paled. They didn’t look fake in the slightest.  Monoblade kept fiddling with his remote – one of the gun moved, targeting Sébastien, who gulped loudly.

“I... I see,” he simply said.

“I bet you do!” Monoblade said, before bursting out laughing. “Hey now, Aphrodite... you still think this is some kind of setup?”

“It has gotten much harder to believe,” Aphrodite replied. “Still, I don’t want to discard that theory completely.”

“Man, for someone so smart, you can be quite dumb,” Monoblade said with a chuckle.

Aphrodite shrugged. Once again, Lisa could only admire her countenance. It was actually a little sexy.

“ Well, I’ll leave you to it!” Monoblade said. “ It’s probably around noon by now . Enjoy your day, kill whoever you like, have fun! And don’t forget: I’m always watching.”

He then  jumped through a hole in the ceiling, and disappeared.


	4. Exploration

For a while, nobody said anything. Lisa was clinging to Ryoji’s shoulder like her life depended on it. Then, someone spoke. He hadn’t spoken at all during the whole exchange, which was why Lisa was so surprised to hear his voice.

“Now now. I understand that this was an extremely strange experience for each of us here. Stressful, frightening, painful. However, we cannot lose our faith now. It seems we have been caught up in a trap: but we are the ultimates, the hope of the nation. The government, our families, the police, they will all come to look for us, I have no doubts. For now, we have to remain strong, and united.”

It was Lucien, the ultimate priest. His voice was crystal clear, loud enough for anyone to hear. It was really soothing too. The way he spoke, it was hard to dismiss him.  _I guess he’s worthy of his title,_ Lisa thought.  _If he speaks like that during his sermons, no doubt he’s rallied a bunch of people to the catholic faith._

“Thanks Lucien,” Aphrodite said. “I think you’re right. Let’s try to avoid panicking for now. We should instead try to assess our situation.”

“Sure, but what can we do?” Jean asked. “We’re stuck in this train, we don’t have our phones, we can’t force our way out without getting shot, we can’t-”

“Well, it’s obvious, right?” Lisa decided to cut in before his panic spiralled out of control. “We should start by exploring the train fully, and come back here to report what we find!”

“I agree,” Magalie said (for once, she didn’t sound angry – that was a first). “The more information we got, the better.”

“Uhm... but shouldn’t we make teams?” Typhaine said timidly. “Isn’t it... dangerous to go alone?”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Ferdinand shouted, ridiculously. “No one is going to murder anyone, because we all have a shining knight inside of us, here to remind us to follow the path of justice! Monoblade is no match against the power of chivalry.”

“The path of justice?” Sébastien repeated, raising his eyebrows.

“A shining knight inside of us?” Rebecca said, looking confused.

“The power of chivarly?” Jordana chuckled.

“You all understood what he meant,” Magalie said, rolling her eyes. “Still Typhaine, if you’re scared you can come with us if you like. It’s perfectly okay.”

“Oh thank goodness!” Typhaine said, with an obvious sigh of relief.

Inspired by her example, most of the students began forming teams as well, and began to leave the place in order to investigate the rest of the train. Ryoji and Lisa exchanged a glance. Naturally they would investigate together – however, both seemed to silently agree that it’d be nice to have a third partner. They began to look around.

“Hey Bob!” Lisa said. “Wanna search the place with us?”

Poor Bob looked completely lost. He smiled upon hearing Lisa, and nodded.

“I dunno if I can be much help to you two though. Don’t have much experience with investigations, I admit.”

“It’s okay,” Ryoji said with a smile. “You just have to look around, and tell us if you find anything weird!”

“Sounds easy enough. Uh... where should we start?”

Lisa pondered. Everyone had left the dining car, except for them.

“Well, how about we start by investigating here?” She suggested. “We’ve been spending so much time in this place, but we never actually bothered to search it, did we?”

“True, Ryoji said.”

“’sides, we can grab a bite as we investigate,” Bob said with a grin. “That’s always nice.”

They each began looking around. The  dining car had two sets of rectangular windows. Upon closer inspection, Lisa realized that they  were extremely thick, perhaps five centimeters. That didn’t tell her much, besides the fact that this was no ordinary train. Had it been built specifically for the purpose of holding them in? That seemed crazy, and yet...

“ I’m curious about the ceiling. Can we open the compartments manually?”

Ryoji was apparently thinking out loud. Lisa turned around. Bob was apparently inspecting the floor, while Ryoji looked at the ceiling. He was really tall, but not tall enough to reach it, even with his arms raised.

“Ah, wait, I can help you!” Lisa said. “You think you can carry me, Ryo?”

“Uh... I’m not very strong y’know,” Ryoji admitted embarrassingly.

“I’ll just stand up on your shoulders then! Don’t worry, I’m not very heavy.”

Ryoji nodded. Lisa climbed onto the table, accidentally knocking out a few bottles as she did so. She then jumped on Ryoji’s shoulders, and awkwardly stood up. He grunted in pain, but she tried to focus on her task. The roof concealed a large set of hidden compartments, but none of them could be opened manually. She could try to force them open, but that’d be violating the “do not destroy the train” rule, so she’d rather not try.

“Nothing I can do, it seems,” she said for the others.

“Oh well, you tried,” Bob said sympathetically.

Lisa went down from Ryoji’s shoulders.

“You find anything on the floor, Bob?”

“I actually do, boss!” Bob said proudly. “But I dunno if it matters.”

“Boss?” Lisa echoed, surprised.

“What did you find, Bob?” Ryoji asked eagerly.

“Well, there’ s several scratch marks on the floor, as if some kind of animal had been set loose ’n here ‘fore we came.”

Lisa crouched to see what he was talking about. Indeed, he was right. The floor appeared to have been damaged by something. But what could it be?

“It kinda looks like... nail scratches, doesn’t it?” Lisa said.

“You think so?” Bob said. “I thought them’s were claw marks, but guess I was wrong.”

They both got back up. Ryoji was apparently inspecting the air vents. They were actually pretty high up.

“Anything suspicious about those vents, Ryo?”

“No, not really,” the tall guy admitted. “They seem pretty average to me.”

“Guess we’re done with this room then,” Lisa concluded. “I don’t see anything else worth inspecting.”

They moved to their right. They found an ordinary passenger carriage, packed with seats and tables. Jordana, Alexander and Florian were already busy inspecting it.

“Yo dudes,” Bob said, raising his hands. “Found anything yet?”

“Not really,” Florian said flatly. “This one appears to be completely ordinary.”

Lisa noticed that Alexander and Jordana were chatting quite a bit, but it didn’t seem to be about the investigation. In fact, they were investigating quite lazily, as if it didn’t matter much to them. Florian seem mildly annoyed by their behavior.

“What about that pile of books over there?” Ryoji asked curiously.

“Oh, that? It doesn’t matter much. It’s all fiction.”

Ryoji picked up some of the books, reading their titles out loud. There was some sci-fi, medieval fantasy, and historical fiction.

“Do these books belong to any of us?” Lisa pondered out loud.

“No, they were already there when we boarded the train,” Jordana explained politely.

“Huh. But who could have put them here?”

“I assumed they were a gift, actually,” Jordana said. “In case one of us got bored.”

She truly had an interesting voice. No surprises, considering her talent, but there was more to it than mere beauty. It felt as if each of her words were carefully calculated, the product of a complex craft, built to adapt to any given situation. As if she were performing, or something. Perhaps it was simply her natural charisma, but Lisa suspected there might be more to it.

“Are we gonna move, or...?” Bob asked, uncertainly.

He and Ryoji were both looking straight as Lisa, as if waiting for her orders. She grinned. Sure, if it was a leader they wanted, a leader she would be.

“Yeah, let’s move! There’s gotta be more to this train than just a bunch of seats.”

The next carriage was also for passengers, which made Lisa wonder why such a big train was used for the trip, if it was only to transport eighteen students. There were more than twenty seats in each carriage, so what was even the point? Rebecca, Suzie and Julie were busy inspecting this one. But while Rebecca and Suzie looked a little lost as to what they were supposed to do, Julie was inspecting the windows so carefully that her head was nearly stuck to them, and it seemed like nothing could break her concentration.

 _For an ultimate hairdresser, her haircut is oddly plain,_ Lisa suddenly realized.

“You find anything, Julie?” Lisa asked.

“Don’t bother me.”

“No but like... what are you expecting to find here? Cracks in the glass?”

She was genuinely confused, but Julie didn’t reply. Bob shrugged, and Ryoji looked away.

“So how’s it goin’, girls?” Bob asked the midwife and the swimmer.

“We don’t really know what to look for,” Rebecca explained. “So far, we’ve only found average things in this train. But Julie has been staring at this window for something like ten minutes now, so we’re waiting for her to finish.”

“Sweet of you,” Bob replied casually.

He strolled among the seats and tables, looking at the floor, walls, and windows. He didn’t seem to know what he was looking for. At some point he suddenly stopped, and crouched near one of the walls.

“Hey Lisa, Rebecca?” He called. “You mind coming here for a sec?”

Lisa raised an eyebrow.

“What for?”

“You both into sports, right? I need someone with muscles to force this thing open.”

“Oh, I love breaking things!” Lisa shouted before running at his side.

“Uh, sure,” Rebecca added, coming as well.

Bob was crouching in front of what looked like a tiny cupboard, embedded into the wall. The handle was tiny, and the door appeared to be stuck. Rebecca didn’t have much trouble opening it. And inside were...

“Board games?” She said, sounding surprised. “Not what I expected.”

“What did you expect?” Lisa replied.

“Uh, well... cables and stuff. Machinery. Y’know, it looks like the kind of box only technicians are allowed to open.”

“Cool, cool, at least we won’t get bored while we wait for rescue to arrive!” Bob said.

“You’re in the mood for board games?” Rebecca asked, dumbfounded.

“Well sure,” he replied, scratching his beard. “Dun’t have many occasions to play’em usually.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“’s okay.”

“I’ve got it.”

Rebecca, Bob, Lisa, Ryoji and Suzie all turned around at the same time. Julie had finally spoken, after fifteen minutes of aggressive window investigation.

“What is it?” Ryoji asked.

“From here, we can read some of the old traffic signs,” Julie explained, sounding almost excited.

“It took you fifteen minutes to read a bunch of signs?” Lisa asked.

“It’s actually pretty difficult, with all the dust and pollution, which is why I needed to focus quite intensely. Sorry if I worried you.”

“It’s okay,” Suzie said. “What did you find out?”

“Well, for one thing, we’re definitely in Lorient. Right next to the _Saint-Louis_ high school, to be more accurate. I think the courthouse isn’t very far. And if memory serves, the courthouse is very close to the coast.”

“You’ve been to Lorient?” Ryoji asked.

“I grew up there.”

“Oh. I’m... I’m sorry.

“Huh, okay,” Rebecca said. “Nice find. Anything else?”

Julie turned around, and took off her glasses. She put them inside a little box, which she fitted into her dress pocket. Lisa noticed that she was wearing gloves, which she found a little odd.

“Indeed,” she said eventually. “Unless I’m wrong, there shouldn’t be any train tracks here. We’re not very far from the old railway station, but the tracks shouldn’t extend this far. Which either means that our train has been going off tracks, which is... pretty crazy in itself. Or it means that some construction workers have come here, extended the tracks for some reason, and then left.”

“What?” Suzie said. “But that’s impossible. Nobody has been allowed in here for ten years! It’d be way too dangerous, with all the radiations and all.”

“Yeah, I agree,” Rebecca said. “It’d be suicide. And what would be the point?”

Julie looked frustrated, for some reason. She crossed her arms.

“But if the train had left the tracks, we would have definitely felt it at some point!” She retorted. “Besides, it would have been extremely dangerous. One false move, and we could have all died in a crash!”

“More dangerous than building train tracks in the ruins of a town where the air destroys your lungs?” Lisa countered.

“Look, I don’t know what’s going on,” Julie replied. “I’m just stating what I saw. Maybe I’m wrong, who knows!”

“That was a helpful insight anyway,” Ryoji said softly. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, sure!” Bob added. “Sure, it’s a bit of a weird discovery, but there has to be a logical explanation somewhere, or sumthin’. You’re good, Ju’.”

Julie seemed a little surprised by the sudden compliments. She simply nodded in return.

Lisa remained silent for a bit, pondering the new information. Her eyes fell onto the inside of the cupboard once more.

“Hey, was that yellow scarf always there?”

“Yep,” Bob said. “Why?”

“I dunno. Why is it here? Who does it belong to?”

“Another mystery to add to the pile,” Bob replied with a shrug.

“Perhaps we should keep going?” Ryoji suggested.

“Good thinking,” Lisa agreed. “Let’s go.”


	5. Locomotive, Kitchen and TV room

The next room was the locomotive cab. If there had been a conductor in this train, they should have been sitting here. But it was as empty as everywhere else. Well, empty as in “devoid of any person who wasn’t currently an ultimate student”. Roberta was actually inspecting some sort of drawer. She looked displeased when she noticed Lisa coming in, but said nothing.

Through the wind-shield, Lisa noticed a rather strange building among the ruins. It looked rather tall, and strangely fresh, among the desolation. As if it had been built quite recently. Sadly, it was a little too far away for her to make out the details. She decided to keep the information to herself.

“We’re definitely on tracks,” Bob commented.

“Hm?” Lisa said, interrupted in her _rêverie_.

“Julie was wondering if we had left the tracks, but we can see them clear as day through the windshield. So that means she was right, right?”

“Not necessarily. Maybe the tracks always extended this far, and he just forgot.”

“The steering wheel has been removed,” Ryoji observed.

“It’s not just the steering wheel,” Roberta corrected. “The whole engine has been removed.”

“Huh?”

“Oh, I get it!” Bob said. “It’s like, so we don’t try to restart the train and escape, right?”

“That seems likely, yes.”

Roberta looked really uncomfortable when she was around people, Lisa thought. Her arms were trembling slightly, and she never looked people in the eye. That was bad luck, considering the situation.

“You got this room covered?” Lisa eventually asked.

“Yes,” Roberta replied.

Confident, calm, determined. Lisa supposed she could trust her.

“We’ll leave you to it, then,” she said, and left.

They had to go backward through the passenger cars, then the dining car, before opening the door to a new area. Right next to the dining car, this one looked like a kitchen of some sort. Lisa was pretty sure trains were not supposed to have kitchens.

“Woah, woah,” Bob said. “That’s a lot of food.”

Indeed, it was. On both sides of the walls, there were some huge crates, filled with soup cans and snacks in boxes. There was also a pretty big fridge, filled with fresh fruits and vegetables, along other culinary implements.

“Monoblade _did_ say we wouldn’t have to worry about food,” Ryoji recalled. “I suppose that’s what he meant.”

“There’s even a stove, huh,” Bob commented. “And in here...? Pots, pans, spatulas, whisks, and knives, and stuff.”

“So basically, a fully-equipped kitchen,” Lisa summarized. “But why? That’s just weird.”

“It’s like, this train has been built for the specific purpose of locking us here,” Ryoji added. “It’s pretty scary.”

“What?” Bob asked. “’course not! This kitchen must’ve had some other purpose. The GTU people are probably just a lil’ weird. No wait, not weird... what’s the word I’m lookin’ for...? Ah right. _Eccentric.”_

“Hm,” Lisa said, unconvinced. “Maybe.”

Bob bit an apple.

“Now what? We keep lookin’, or you want to stay in there for a lil’ more?”

“We keep looking,” Lisa eventually decided.

The next car was dedicated to the girl’s and boy’s bathrooms. There was only one shower in each. Lisa found Aphrodite inspecting the sink.

“You find anything?” Lisa asked.

“Yes, some hair,” Aphrodite replied. “Long brown hair. I don’t know if it belongs to one of us, or if it was here prior to the boarding, though. At any rate, it doesn’t tell us much.”

“Nothing else?”

“I found some soap, cotton swabs, a few bottles of perfume, towels, etcetera. Basically average bathroom stuff. Some cleaning tools, too. I wonder if we’re expected to clean the train ourselves?”

“It’d keep us busy,” Lisa replied with a shrug. “You... really still think this is some kind of test?” She added after a while. “This whole situation. You really believe it could be a huge setup?”

“I wanted to believe it at first,” Aphrodite replied. “I still kinda do. Thing is, if it’s all a setup, I don’t really see the objective. And after seeing the gatling guns in the ceiling, well...”

“I get your point. You don’t wanna abandon the theory completely, but...”

“But it’s getting harder and harder to believe.”

Aphrodite nodded to herself.

“Still, I’m not losing hope,” she said. “If we truly have been kidnapped, then no doubt the police is already on its way to rescue us. We just have to wait.”

“And stick together!” Lisa added. “Which reminds me... Ryo and Bob are probably waiting for me. Okay, seeya!”

And indeed, they were. When Lisa asked, they explained that they had found an unsettling amount of scissors in the men’s bathroom, though they had no idea why those were there. Lisa frowned, then shrugged. It wasn’t the weirdest thing she had heard about that day.

The next room was some sort of TV room. There were no seats, but some wide benches on each side of the hallway. Far at the back, a small bookshelf was packed with DVDs. Sébastien, Typhaine, Magalie and Ferdinand were investigating that one.

“Those aren’t normal TVs, are they?” Bob asked.

“They’re just screens,” Ryoji realized. “We can use them to watch the DVDs if we like, but that’s all we can do.”

“Aw, shit. And I hoped to get some news from the outside.”

“It’d be great, wouldn’t it?”

That was Sébastien. He looked as laid back as he had all day. Did nothing even faze this guy?

“That was to be expected,” Magalie said. “Information is a strong weapon. By keeping us ignorant, the kidnappers are making sure to be several steps ahead of us.”

She frowned, and her nose seemed to twitch in anger.

“Damn these assholes! I’m sure they built this room just to spite us.”

“Calm yourself, my dear!” Ferdinand exclaimed. “If you keep frowning like that, you will ruin your pretty face with unwanted wrinkles.”

“Don’t call me pretty,” Magalie replied coldly.

Lisa was getting bored of the investigation already, so she decided to move on. But the next room was locked, for some reason. She would have attempted to force it open, but that might fall under the “don’t break the train” rule, so she gave up.

“Uh, what now?” She asked the others.

“Oh, Florian said we should regroup in the dining car once we were finished with our search,” Sébastien explained. “To share what we’ve found and make some decisions.”

“He probably wants to elect a leader,” Magalie said.

“A leader?” Bob said. “Oh no. Oh I dun’ like this idea at all, no thanks.”

Magalie didn’t reply. Lisa wondered if she could be the group’s leader. Sure, Julie and Roberta didn’t seem to like her all that much, but she’d been friendly enough with most of the others, so... why not?

“Let’s go then,” she said. “We’ve got a lot to discuss.”


	6. To Elect a Leader

Once again, everyone was gathered inside the dining car. Lisa kinda wanted to call it the dining hall in her mind now. It was spacious enough to contain all eighteen students, which was nice; and the buffet could serve as a makeshift table. Too bad there weren’t any chairs.

It appeared that Jordana and Alexander would be presiding the meeting this time. They were talking among themselves, probably preparing what they would have to say. As for the other students, most of them looked rather upset. Not that Lisa could blame them at all. The heat was rising a little, which aggravated her desire to get out.

“Please everyone, may we have your attention?”

Joardana hadn’t spoken the words, but sung them. Lisa recognized the tune: it was from her most famous song, _“Fuegos Ardientes”_. Everyone was silenced immediately.

“Thank you. Now, first and foremost, we’d like to thank you all for coming here. We thought we should discuss what we had found, is that is fine with you all?”

Sixteen nods. They were waiting for her to resume speaking.

“Cool,” Jordana said. “I don’t suppose anyone has found an exit?”

Silence.

“Predictable. But I had to ask.”

“Still, perhaps one of you has found something worth mentioning?” Alexander suggested.

“Indeed.” (Jordana was tapping her chin with her index finger.) “Who wishes to speak first?”

“Bob, that’s your cue,” Lisa grinned.

“Whu-? Me?”

“Remember what we found right here, on the ground?” Lisa whispered.

“Oh, right!” (He turned to face the group, grabbing the sides of his jacket.) “Uh yeah, if you look at the floor, there’s some weird scratch marks. Probably from before we came here in, I’d reckon, ey? I dunno what that means though. Or if it’s useful at all.”

“Scratch marks?” Aphrodite echoed. “That’d mean there was a struggle here at some point. Interesting.”

“It could be an important clue,” Lucien added, joining his hands in a prayer sign.

“That’s stupid,” Florian said. “Scratch marks? It could be anything. It could have been made when they moved the table here.”

“I don’t think so,” Lisa countered. “The shape clearly resembles a hand print, you can see it for yourself.”

“Thank you for your input,” Jordana cut in, politely yet firmly. “We’ll be taking a note of it, in case it becomes relevant later. Anyone else wishes to speak?”

Roberta explained that the train’s engine had been removed. Ryoji and Aphrodite summarized what they had found in the bathrooms, then Julie gave an account of what she had learned from looking through the window. Jordana took notes on a little handbook, nodding to herself.

“It seems the layout of the train is consistent with the floor plans we’ve been given,” she eventually said. “So far, no surprises.”

“May I speak?” Lucien asked.

“Go ahead.”

Lucien moved behind the buffet table, and stood between Jordana and Alexander. He was the only one who had yet to remove his mask. He exchanged a look with each of the students gathered, then spoke.

“These are troubling times indeed. We have found ourselves in quite the unexpected predicament. I understand some of you are scared, sad, upset and angry. These feelings are natural.” (Slight pause. He caught his breath, and opened his eyes.) “But it is at times like these that we must be strong, and above all, united. For those of you who share my faith, you know that God does not punish those of pure hearts. He looks unkindly on sinners, and you can be certain that whoever sought to toy with us so unfairly will be punished appropriately.”

He took another pause for effect. Lisa gulped. His words almost seemed to be heavy. They carried the weight of consequences.

“Now, for those who do not believe. I do not wish to challenge your faith, not here, not now. I am simply begging you to work with me, to work with all of us. Let us not let our differences divide us. Remember who we are: we are the ultimate students, our nation’s greatest pride.” (He was getting a little louder, perhaps a little more excited too.) “We must show them that we are worthy of our title. We must be exemplary in these troubled times. Do you all agree?”

A few of the students agreed vocally. Some of them simply nodded. Lucien looked pleased.

“That is all. Thank you for listening to me.”

Alexander seemed to be annoyed by all the attention Lucien was getting.

“Okay!” He shouted. “Thanks for your speech, now the next thing we wanted to talk about.”

“It seems we are going to be trapped in here for a few days at least, perhaps more,” Jordana cut in, to Alexander’s frustration. “If we want to maintain harmony, we need to establish a few rules of our own.”

“Exactly! And that’s why we need a leader,” Alexander concluded, making a wide arm gesture.

Lisa turned around to look at Magalie. Somehow, she had guessed this would happen. How?

“Are you sure that’s necessary?” Sébastien said, raising his hand lazily.

“We believe so,” Jordana replied. “This is undoubtedly a dangerous situation: we believe it is going to be necessary if we want to maintain a sense of security.”

“Not a trusting person, are you?”

“We barely know each other. It’s only fair.”

“So here’s how it goes,” Alexander chimed in. “Raise your hand if you want to become the leader. Then each candidate will give a brief speech, and then we’ll hold a vote.”

“How are we supposed to decide, though?” Julie said. “Jordana said it, we barely know each other.”

“It’s a question of faith,” Lucien said. “It is currently all we have.”

“Great, I love faith,” Julie replied sarcastically.

Alexander asked once more who wanted to become the leader, and raised his own hand. Lisa raised her hand as high as possible. The other candidates were Ferdinand and Julie. Four candidates in total.

“Shouldn’t be too difficult,” Bertrand said.

“Speak with conviction, and the Lord will favor your side,” Lucien advised.

“Good luck Lisa,” Bob said with a thumb up. “Whatever the others say, you got my vote in the bag!”

“Before we start, I’d like to ask something,” Aphrodite said.

“What kind of question is it?” Jordana inquired politely.

“It’s a question for Monoblade, actually.”

“You want to call him here?” Typhaine asked, incredulously.

Aphrodite nodded.

“Monoblade? Can you hear us?”

The robot once more shot down from the roof, landing on the table and making Alexander jump in surprise.

“Miss me already?” He asked with a finger gun gesture (since he didn’t have any fingers, Lisa wasn’t exactly sure what he was trying to do, but the finger gun seemed like the best possibility).

“I’m curious about the voting app on our tablets,” Aphrodite said. “We’re about to elect a leader, so I wondered if we could use it for that?”

Monoblade seemed very excited by the idea.

“Ooooh, definitely! You just need to tap on the person’s face, and the results will appear on the screen once everyone’s finished.”

“Thanks,” Aphrodite and Bertrand said at the same time, as Monoblade disappeared once more.

“Okay then, I’ll start with my speech then!” Alexander said.

He pounded the table before he started speaking.

“My dear classmates, whom I treasure dearly! I you elect me today...”

He spoke loudly and with conviction, but his speech was rather empty in terms of actual ideas. Lisa understood that he was confident in his abilities, he promised to be fair, to work for everyone’s sake, etc, but he didn’t actually suggest anything tangible. He was very sexy as he spoke, and he even flashed his muscles a few times, which Rebecca seemed to appreciate quite a lot. When he stopped talking, the applause was quite loud, but Florian sighed extremely loudly, and Aphrodite looked utterly uninterested.

Lisa was next. She wasn’t as good at capturing the crowd’s attention, but she brought some sensible ideas, or at least she thought she did. She suggested a daily meeting in the dining car, for breakfast, a turn-based system for cooking and cleaning, and a time limit on the shower use. She also promised she’d organize some games and other activities so that no one would get bored.

Ferdinand’s speech was the longest. He spoke for what seemed like hours about virtue, friendship, courage, heart, fire and other things. His speech wasn’t as empty as Alexander’s, but it was definitely hard to follow. Magalie, who was standing at his side, looked highly embarrassed. Eventually she forced him to shut up, and Julie took his place.

Julie was the calmest orator, and it made her seem like the most sensible one. She explained that she had a lot of siblings that she was used to taking care of, which gave her experience in the field. Then she reused some of Lisa’s ideas, and perfected them somewhat. Her speech wasn’t the longest, but it certainly was the most efficient.

Then, silence fell back on the room. Bob and Ryoji once again promised to vote for Lisa. She was quite confident in her chances, and voted for herself too. Waiting for the results to come in, she looked around. Some of the students had barely hesitated before pressing the button, but others pondered for a while. Aphrodite and Bertrand were the slowest, and actually talked a little among themselves before making their choice.

Then the votes were in. Lisa was bouncing around excitedly. But her enthusiasm suddenly deflated when she realized she had only gotten five votes in total. With hers, Bob’s and Ryo’s, that meant that only two other people had judged her trustworthy. That kinda hurt. And she had been so confident in her chances!

Julie was the winner, with nine votes in total. Alexander got three, and Ferdinand one.

“You idiot!” Magalie was shouting, punching Ferdinand in his breastplate. “You didn’t even vote for yourself!”

“It is highly discourteous to vote for oneself,” Ferdinand mumbled.

He looked extremely disappointed, so much that Lisa actually felt a little sad for him. He would have been a fun leader, for sure. Funnier than hairdresser girl.

But wow, Julie actually won. Somehow, when she imagined herself losing, Lisa had expected it to be against Alexander, not Julie. She had drastically underestimated the girl, that was for sure. Julie was grinning a little, apparently very proud of her victory. Alexander on the other hand, looked furious. He would have punched a wall, but Jordana grabbed his wrist in time, reminding him of the “no damaging the train” rule. What an idiot, this one.

Julie went back behind the buffet, to say a few words. But Magalie didn’t bother listening to them, and left with Ferdinand. Meanwhile, Lisa was so disappointed about her defeat that she couldn’t concentrate at all on what Julie was saying. When the speech ended, everyone left the food car, except for Ryoji and Bob.

“Huh?” Lisa said. “It’s over already?”

“Julie said we’d have our next meeting on tomorrow morning, and that she’d explain the new rules then,” Ryoji explained. “In the meantime, we can do whatever we like.”

“I see.”

“You gon’ be okay?” Bob asked.

“I dunno,” Lisa said, staring at her feet. “I kinda feel like shit.”

Bob looked straight at Ryoji. He was probably thinking something like “now would be a great time to put your talent to use, boy.” Ryoji was very slow to catch on, but suddenly he gasped, and grabbed Lisa for a hug. It was even better than the first time. She felt like Ryoji was a huge teddy bear, working as some kind of sponge to absorb her negative emotions. It took ten seconds, and it was enough. When he released her, Lisa stretched her arms.

“Okay! Sorry about that guys, I’m back in the game!”

“Already?” Bob said, sounding shocked. “The power of an ultimate hugger is crazy strong!”

Ryoji blushed and mumbled something like “it’s nothing really” which Lisa didn’t really listen to.

“Okay gang, what do we do now? Should we play a board game or something?”

“Ah well, I kinda wanted to try the shower first,” Bob said. “Will be joinin’ you guys when I’m done, though.”

Lisa nodded, and took Ryoji with her to the passenger car. Rebecca was the only one there. She was sat next to the window, looking at the ruins of Lorient in silence. Ryoji attempted to open the cupboard himself, but it was still stuck. Lisa eventually had to do it for him.

“Say, how about we take the games off the cupboard for now?” Ryoji suggested. “It’ll get annoying quick if the door gets stuck every time.”

“Good thinking.”

Lisa removed the games one by one, placing them on one of the seats. Once she was done, the only thing left in the cupboard was the scarf. Seeing no reason to take it, Lisa closed the cupboard once more.

Her and Ryoji played Uno for a few hours. Rebecca eventually asked to join them, and Bob came back after a bit, wearing nothing but a white towel. It was odd to see him without his beanie.

“Uh, hi Bob. Quite the fashion sense you got there,” Lisa said with a smirk.

“Yeah, well... the thing is, I don’t really have any spare clothes, see. Bein’ a hobo an’ all.”

“Oh, right.”

“I could lend you some clothes,” Ryoji offered. “They might be a bit big for you though.”

“You would, really? That’s super sweet! I ain’t sayin’ no, f’sure.”

They both left the room to look through Ryoji’s stuff, while Lisa played another round with Rebecca.

“You know, I’ve just had a thought,” Rebecca said eventually, as she skipped Lisa’s turn for the third time in a row. “About Robert and his need for new clothes.”

“What is it?”

“Well, thing is. There’s nothing we can use to clean our clothes in here, except maybe the sinks in the bathrooms and kitchen. Eventually, we’re all gonna run out of clothes too, aren’t we?”

“Huh. I didn’t think of that.”

“Hey Monoblade?” Rebecca called.

The ceiling opened once more, and the robot fell on the seat right next to Rebecca’s. Lisa jumped a bit. It’d probably take some more time for her to get used to that.

“Somebody calling my name?” The robot asked curiously.

“Yeah, it’s me. Would you happen to have some clothes for us?”

“Who do you take me for, swimmer girl? I’m not a store.”

“It’s your fault we can’t go to stores anymore,” Rebecca replied, not skipping a beat. “The least you can do is bring us what we need.”

Monoblade chuckled heartily.

“That’s a fair point actually! I’ll bring you a bunch of new clothes by tomorrow morning. But I’m not sure if you’re going to like them all that much, pfuhuhu.”

He then shot through the ceiling again, and disappeared.

“Well, I tried,” Rebecca said.

“Huh. I didn’t know you could ask him for stuff like that. The idea of talking with our kidnapper didn’t cross my mind at all!”

“In my life experience, I realized that you can get a surprisingly large amount of stuff by simply asking for it,” Rebecca said with a shrug. “Once I got access to a hotel room I didn’t pay for, just because I asked for it.”

“That’s super cool,” Lisa replied. “Will you teach me, sensei?”

Bob and Ryoji came back. Bob was wearing a very large pink t-shirt which he seemed to like quite a lot. On the front, a bunch of happy Tanukis had been printed. Lisa found it cute, but she didn’t imagine herself wearing something like this.

“I’m sorry that it’s too large,” Ryoji mumbled embarrassingly.

“’s okay my dude, it’s super comfy! I love it.”

The game resumed. Rebecca won most of the times. Bob seemed to struggle with the rules quite a lot. He seemed to love throwing the cards instead of simply dropping them on the table, but when one flew away and got stuck in the air vent, he stopped. Lisa tried to cheat by hiding a few cards in her back pocket, but got caught.

Eventually they all left to grab some food. Typhaine was taking care of cooking dinner for everyone (surprisingly enough, it wasn’t soup, but fried vegetables). She asked Jean if he wanted to help her, but he had refused, which made her a little sad. Instead, Bertrand had agreed to be her assistant. From what Lisa could tell, he wasn’t very good at being an assistant, but oh well. At least he had actually showed up.

Next, they all ate together. Since there were no chairs, everyone grabbed a plate and sat on the floor. Lisa sat next to Sébastien, and they both listened as Magalie and Ferdinand bickered endlessly about history and philosophy.

“...and I can’t believe you’d actually use a rapier, I mean come on, a _rapier?_ It’s a Spanish type of sword that wasn’t invented until the end of the 15th century, but your overall aesthetic, despite being rather inconsistent, is clearly inspired from the knights of the 13th century! I mean, are you even _trying?”_

Ferdinand puffed his chest, aggressively wielding a carrot at Magalie’s face.

“As I have said more than one time, it is the _feeling_ that matters, not the specifics, and besides-”

“Hey Ferd,” Lisa cut in. “What is it you do with the sword?”

“Huh?”

“What is it you do with the sword?” Lisa repeated. “Do you actually know how to use it, or is it just for show?”

Ferdinand blinked. He seemed really puzzled for a moment.

“Why, the sword is an essential part of the knight’s equipment, obviously I must have one.”

“Hehe, you dodged the question,” Lisa chuckled, sticking her tongue out.

“You have a horse too, then, I assume?” Sébastien asked.

“Huh?”

“Knights have horses, Ferdinand. That’s kinda their whole thing.”

“We call them _chevaliers_ for a reason,” Lisa added.

“Uh... well...”

“They’re not wrong, you know,” Magalie added. “Historically speaking, you could hardly be called a knight without having a horse. Where _is_ your horse, Ferd?”

“I... this line of questioning is rather unchivalrous,” Ferdinand said, looking highly embarrassed.

“Is it?” Sébastien said. “We’re just curious is all.”

“Are you... afraid of horses, Ferd?” Lisa asked, tilting her head to one side.

His eyes narrowed, just a little. Lisa hadn’t expected to be right on this one.

“How dare you! A knight fears naught!” He screamed, perhaps a little too loud.

Silence fell on the room, and everyone turned to look at Ferdinand. He blushed, and buried himself in his plate.

“Well, that settles that,” Sébastien commented as the flow of conversations resumed around them.

“Aw, it’s okay Ferd,” Lisa said. “I still think you’re cool.”

He mumbled something incomprehensible, which she assumed was a thanks. Magalie giggled.

Then suddenly the lights went out. There were a few noises of complaints.

“Hey, what the hell?” Alexander yelled. “Monoblade, what are you doing?”

“He’s going to kill us all!” Typhaine squeaked, panicking.

“Of course not,” Roberta snapped. “Shut your mouth if you have nothing useful to say.”

The bell rang once more, followed by another announcement.

_“_ _Good evening students. It’s already_ _11_ _pm, can you believe it? I forgot to warn you, but the lights automatically turn off at 11 pm, every night! So yeah, you’d better find a place to sleep, my dudes.”_

The announcement cut off, and silence fell once more. Lisa sighed.

“Has anybody got a flashlight?” She asked eventually.

“I do,” Aphrodite said. “Watch out, I’m going to turn it on. Don’t burn your eyes.”

She pointed it at the ceiling. Lisa looked away. Somehow, this had taken a serious toll on her mood. It was such a simple thing, turning off the light – but it reminded her of how powerless she actually was. At home, she would have simply needed to flick a switch. Here, she couldn’t even do that.

Everyone got up a little awkwardly. Aphrodite did her best to light everyone’s path as they dropped their unfinished plates on the table, and left the dining car.

“We’ll clean everything up tomorrow morning,” Julie said. “For now, let’s all get some rest.”

“I wonder if it’s not the oddest thing that’s happened today, huh,” Bob said. “Why the effin’ heck do the kidnappers care about our sleep schedule?”

“No clue,” Ryoji replied.

“Er. Ryo, I think you’re stepping on my foot.”

“Am I?”

“Actually, that was me,” Florian said petulantly. “I was trying to signal you that you are, in fact, in my way.”

“Sorry dude. Didn’t see you there.”

Eventually, they all managed to reach the passenger car. Lisa found an empty set of chairs, and lied down. It wasn’t very comfortable, but it would do.

“Kinda wish we had a blanket.”

That was Magalie’s voice, from... somewhere.

“The towels in the bathrooms could serve as makeshift blankets,” Aphrodite commented from her spot.

“But the bathrooms are so far, and we have no lights,” Magalie complained.

“Say Rebecca,” Lisa called. “You’re good at having Monoblade do stuff for you. Can’t you ask him to lend us some blankets?”

“Guess I can try. Monoblade?”

The sound of something hitting the ground, and Typhaine screaming. Monoblade must have dropped near her.

“You must really love me, for calling me at this hour!” The robot said excitedly. “Should I add a rule regarding mecanophilia? Flirting with the headmaster shouldn’t be allowed.”

“It’s nothing like that, obviously! We just want some blankets.”

“Oh, those? I’ll get you some by tomorrow. In the meantime, feel free to be cold and uncomfortable!”

“Thank you for nothing,” Florian mumbled as Monoblade shot through the ceiling.

Silence fell. The only audible noise was the wind blowing outside. Sometimes, little bits of dust would splash against the windows.

 _What a weird day,_ Lisa thought. _We’ve been kidnapped, but it hardly feels real. Despite everything, it’s just so hard to believe. Am I just trying to escape from the truth? Yeah, probably. But trying to be chill, befriending everyone, it’s probably the opposite of what the kidnappers want, so isn’t it the right thing to do?_

Thinking about this was tiring, so she tried to imagine herself outside, on her bike, exploring a peaceful forest. After half an hour of tossing and turning, she finally fell asleep.


	7. Gifts, Prayer, and Martial Arts

At 5am, Aphrodite was already awake. She got up from her row of seats, and massaged her back. Looking through the window, she could see the sunrise, coloring the clouds orange and pink. Everyone was still sleeping. Lisa, Ferdinand and Ryoji snored the loudest, it was almost comical. She left the room cautiously, careful to not make a sound. Good thing she was actually pretty good at being stealthy. Probably not as good as Roberta, though.

She went straight to the women’s bathroom. Julie hadn’t established any rules regarding the shower usage yet, so she could take a very long shower if she wanted. Not like anyone would find out, at any rate.

Forty minutes later, she came back into the kitchen, tying her very long hair into a heavy ponytail. Monoblade was busy emptying a crate of some sort.

“Good day to you, horrible kidnapper,” she said, yawning.

“Eh, you’re already here? Insulting your principal, how rude.”

“It’s not against the rules,” Aphrodite replied with a shrug. “What are you doing?”

“Rebecca asked me for blankets and new clothes, so I’m being a good bear and bringing the good stuff!” Monoblade replied, (proudly?). “There’s all sizes and shapes, even for fatties like you and Ryoji.”

“Rude.”

“Said the girl who called me a horrible kidnapper just a minute ago.”

“To be fair, you are a horrible kidnapper.”

“To be fair, you are chubby.”

“True, but me being chubby never harmed you in any way. However, you kidnapping us-”

“Shoot, you got me! I can already tell you’re going to be a terror in class trials.”

“In what?” Aphrodite asked, frowning.

“Oops, I wasn’t supposed to tell you about those! Pretend you didn’t hear anything!”

And just like that, he shot through the ceiling.

“As if,” Aphrodite mumbled.

“Who are you talking to?” Bertrand said as he walked into the room.

“Monoblade, but he just left. Look, we got some new clothes.”

“Oh, right,” Bertrand said, noticing the crates.

He picked one of the t-shirts, and unfolded it. There was something written on the front.

“ _’_ _I’m sorry, I was born stupid?’_ Who’d want to wear something like that?”

“Someone who had no choice in the matter, I guess.”

They both looked through the crates, and found more distasteful jokes printed on the clothes. Sometimes they’d advertise some big, flashy, bloody weapons. Others featured an insulting message. Some even had a target painted on their back.

“It’s not even funny,” Bertrand commented, looking sick.

“We should have seen it coming.”

“Well, it’s okay though. I can always paint something over it.”

“Oh right, you’re the ultimate painter. I had forgotten. There’s quite a lot of clothes though, are you going to be okay?”

“It’ll keep me busy,” Bertrand said with a smile.

It was the second time Aphrodite heard these words. She was happy to hear that her classmates were such positive and optimistic people.

***

An hour later, Roberta woke up. She hadn’t slept with everyone in the passenger car, but had instead chosen to sleep on the floor of the locomotive cab. Her back hurt quite a lot as a result.

She stretched, yawned, and looked at the view through the wind-shield. She found the town’s ruins almost poetic, in a way. Though they were a symbol of pain and desolation, there was an odd and unexplainable beauty to it. The flying dust almost looked like snow, at times. Roberta had grown up in Denmark, then later moved to the south of France, where snowfalls were much less frequent. She missed them, sometimes. So she sat on the conductor’s seat, and admired the view for a bit, silently. Eventually she’d have to get out, eat, see people, socialize, take a shower perhaps. But that would be then, and this was now. She had all the time in the world.

***

At 8pm, a loud announcement rang, waking everybody up at the same time.

 _“_ _Good morning everyone! It’s 8pm, the non_ _existent_ _birds are singing, the flowers are dying because the toxic radiations have made the earth barren and deserted, and your backs are probably hurting because those seats are so uncomfortable. How does it feel to sleep like hobos? Now get up and clean up the mess you left in the dining car, you lazy butts!”_

Magalie was staring at the ceiling. She had been awake for ten solid minutes, and now she very much wanted to punch a bear in the stomach.

“How dare this bear interrupt my beauty sleep!”

And that was Alexander waking up. She kinda wanted to punch him too. Still, she didn’t have time to worry about that. She had to find Ferdinand, wherever he might be. She had lost track of him last night, when they were all trying to find a place to sleep. So she got up hastily, and looked around. Luckily, he was rather hard to miss.

“Good morning, Mag,” he said sleepily. “How’s your morning? Full of justice and fire I hope?”

“More fire than actual justice, but it could be worse. Watch out, you’ve been drooling a bit.”

“Nonsense, knights do not... _drool.”_

“You’re no knight then.”

That actually seemed to hurt him quite a bit. Magalie winced.

“Okay, sorry, I take that back. Come on, Julie is expecting us to gather in the dining car. We should go.”

***

Julie hadn’t truly expected the others to choose _her_ as their leader. She had volunteered out of spite, expecting for Lisa or Alexander to actually win the vote. She thus found herself a little annoyed when she actually had to fulfill the promises she had made during her speech. Luckily, she had managed to get help from Suzie and Jean, which were actually better than her at this sort of thing.

“Hello everyone, thanks for coming here for this first morning meeting,” she said. “Is everyone here?”

“No, Bob is still sleeping,” Lisa said. “Also Roberta is nowhere to be found, but I think she just doesn’t like...” (Lisa seemed to be looking for the right word. She was making circle gestures with her arm.) “... people,” she eventually said.

“Okay. That’s fine, I suppose. I can trust you to fill them in later?”

“Yes ma’am!”

How could she be so energetic, early in the morning? That was completely unfair. Julie tried to hide her jealousy, but she felt a bitter taste on her tongue.

“I’ll present the new rules, and you guys tell me if you have any questions or objections. If you do, simply raise your hand. It’s all simple little things to make our lives easier, though. Nothing groundbreaking.”

She looked at her notes briefly.

“First, let’s talk about food. Jean, if you please.”

Jean stepped up awkwardly. But then again, he never seemed to be comfortable anywhere. Maybe that was just his style, or something.

“We agreed to have three meals per day, and that we’d have them all together. We thought it’d reinforce the communal feeling. Ah, a question. Uh, yes Jordana?”

“Do we have to attend every time?”

“No, but it’s strongly advised that you do, so as to not feel isolated. Next thing, we made a little board,” (he pointed to a little sheet of paper which had been taped on the wall behind him) “The idea is that we’ll take turns for cooking, so that the same person doesn’t have to make food every time. Yes Ryoji?”

“What if we’re bad at cooking? Like... really really bad.”

“You still have to do it when your turn comes,” Jean said, wincing. “You can have a friend helping you though, if you’re _that_ bad.”

Ryoji blushed and mumbled an apology. Jean decided to move on.

“So as I’ve said, we made a board.”

“It’s going to be accessible in the kitchen and dining car at all times,” Julie added. “No one’s allowed to scribble on it, or I’ll make you drink vinegar in a bowl.”

“Uh... thanks boss,” Jean mumbled. “So yeah, today Suzie is in charge of breakfast duty, as you can see. Ferdinand will be taking care of lunch, Rebecca is on supper duty, and such and so on. Any questions?”

“That’s stupid,” Alexander huffed, quite loudly. “The food ultimates should be taking care of the food duty, it just makes sense. This system is both needlessly complicated, and inefficient.”

Jean, Julie and Suzie all blinked at the same time. Everyone turned to look at Alexander.

“Why are you acting like a child all of a sudden?” Aphrodite asked, curiously.

“I am NOT!” Alexander shouted, angrily.

“Oh, he’s just all pouty because we didn’t elect him as our leader!” Lisa said, snickering.

“That’s good,” Florian added, waving a little plastic flower. “That means we can just ignore him.”

Alexander wanted to yell something, but somehow Jordana managed to shut him up. Julie wondered why she even stuck around this guy, if he was going to be such a tool. But well, it wasn’t her business.

Suzie took care of explaining the next part, which consisted in shower restrictions. Everyone was allowed a ten-minute shower per day, no more, no less. Monoblade had explained that the hot water resources were quite limited, so the system was to prevent early birds from hoarding all the hot water, forcing the later ones to wash in the cold.

“And now, for our third point,” Julie said, taking Suzie’s place at the front. “We’re unsure about that one, so we’d like to know your opinion first. Do you think that a guard duty should be established at night, to ensure everyone’s safety?

The room went quiet immediately. No one liked the implications this sentence carried. Julie didn’t like them either, but she felt like she had no choice. If she didn’t at least suggest the idea, the others would accuse her of not taking safety in consideration.

“Hohoho, I feel like it’s my time to shine, you guys.”

Monoblade was back inside the room. When had he come in? It didn’t matter. He was here, and apparently had more to say.

“What is it?” Julie asked coldly.

“Pfuhuhu. How’s everyone feeling? Tense? Worried? Scared? Perfect, perfect! Let me add another thing to worry about on your already large pile!”

“Get to the point, bear,” Florian snapped (he even snapped his fingers, for dramatic effect).

“Right boss! I want to introduce a new concept, and since you’re already all gathered here...”

“We’re not though,” Aphrodite said. “Bob and Roberta are missing.”

“Seriously?” Monoblade said, sounding annoyed. “Well shit, I don’t have time to wait for them to get up. Just figure out a way to let them know before it’s too late!”

“Before it’s too late?” Sébastien asked. “What does that mean?”

“Today is September the 2nd,” Monoblade replied. “In three days, it’ll be september the 5th. Everyone with me so far?”

“God, you’re so annoying,” Julie whispered.

“I thought I’d just let you guys do your own thing and wait for murder to happen naturally, but I actually had a better idea. Let’s speed up the process! So I’m giving you all a _motive_. You have three days to kill someone, and if you don’t, a vote will be held on September the 5th.”

“A vote for what?” Ryoji asked, hugging a little teddy bear for comfort.

“For who to kill of course! Think of the most useless person in the group, the most annoying prick, the stupidest _moron_ , and cast your vote!” (Monoblade’s words had been getting louder and louder as the sentenced progressed, but he had yelled the last one, jumping and waving his arms dramatically). “The winner will be executed by yours truly!”

“What?” Rebecca shouted. “That’s completely insane! Why do you want us to _choose?”_

“I like seeing you suffer. Of course, each person refusing to vote will be executed too, heehee.”

“That’s... that’s impossible,” Ferdinand said, hands clung to his shoulders. “We would never do such a thing.”

“But what if the vote ends in a tie?” Aphrodite asked.

“Huh?” Monoblade said.

“I said, what if it’s a tie? What if nobody wins the vote?”

“Huh? Huh? Huh? I actually hadn’t thought of that. It’s okay, I have three days to figure out a solution to this problem! Don’t worry, I’ll keep you posted. Toodles ‘till then! In the meantime, don’t hesitate to commit manslaughter!”

And just like that, he was gone. Julie felt her chest tighten. No one said anything for a while. She looked at each of her classmates: they looked disgusted, angry, scared. It was a huge weight to drop on their chests like this.

“Guys,” she said. “Three days is a pretty long time. It’s actually very likely that rescue will have arrived by then. At the very least, the kidnappers will be too busy fighting the police to organize this stupid voting event. What I mean is, we have to stay strong. We’ll be _fine_ , but we _have_ to remain united. Got it? Will you do this for your boss?”

“Do you really believe that, boss?” Typhaine asked, in utter disbelief.

“Of course I do!” Julie asked, sounding a little frustrated. “You think I’d just throw empty words at you all, at a time like this?”

“You speak wisely, Julie,” Lucien said. “For those who wish to seek the Lord’s help, I will organize a prayer at 11am. Anyone is welcome, believers and non believers alike.”

“Where will it take place?” Jordana asked curiously.

“I thought to turn the second passenger car into a makeshift chapel. Bertrand, if you don’t mind painting some crosses on the window?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, I can do that.”

“That’s not actually a bad idea,” Julie pondered out loud. “Prayer is essential to the believers, and for the non Christians it works as relaxation session, which we could all use at the moment. Anyway,” she said, remembering her role. “On the question of night guard duty, I think we’re _definitely_ going to need it, so I’m going to add a second board, and we’ll be taking turns. There’ll be three different guard duties, from 11pm to 2am, from 2 to 5, and then from 5 to 8. Then the morning announcement rings, so everyone’s awake, and it’s everyone’s responsibility to look after themselves. Any questions?”

There were none. Julie nodded, and they could finally have their breakfast. Suzie had made avocado toasts, which were very pretty, but didn’t taste all that good.

***

Bertrand was painting crosses on the train windows, as he had been told. He would take care of the t-shirts later, he decided. There was no rush. Of course, an ultimate painter wasn’t simply going to paint ordinary cross-shapes. On the first window, Bertrand was making a cross made out of stone in a field of lilies, eaten up by thorns and ivy. The colors were unrealistic, but blended well together. Jordana was standing behind him, arms resting behind her back, smiling to herself.

“You’re not with Alexander this time?” Bertrand asked curiously.

“No, I am not. He made quite a fool of himself this morning, I didn’t want people to associate me with this kind of behaviour.”

“Huh. Okay.”

“Are you going to add some flying birds in the scenery? I feel like it would make your paint job more _dynamique_.”

“That’s a good idea actually,” Bertrand pondered, taping his chin with his brush and accidentally spraying himself with yellow paint.

Lucien walked into the room. Aside from Jordana and Bertrand, Jean, Magalie, Ferdinand and Julie had come to partake in the common prayer. Jordana was a little surprised, for she hadn’t expected it to be so successful.

“Good morning once more,” Lucien said as he saluted his classmates. “Bertrand, I want to thank you for your wonderful job. I expected your art to be gorgeous, but it has outdone my expectations.”

“I’m not finished yet,” Bertrand simply said. “But thanks.”

 _He must be used to_ _receiving_ _compliments,_ Jordana thought.

Lucien put a blanket on the floor, then kneeled upon it. Jordana had never really looked at him from up close. His skin was summer-tanned, his face was oddly long, his cheeks hollow, and his eyes were so pale that they almost looked milky. His hands were very beautiful things, thin and agile, with painted nails. What an interesting character.

“Jordana,” he said, looking at her directly in the eyes. “Do you mind singing for us?”

“Of course not. I assume it will be in latin?”

“You would be right.”

He looked through his pocket, and took out a little book.

“Page 37, second paragraph.”

Jordana took the book, and nodded.

Everyone went on their knees. Ferdinand looked like he was about to say something, but Magalie silenced him. Jordana opened the book, and sang.

She had no idea what kind of melody she was expected to perform, so she improvised. Her speciality was pop songs, she had had very rare occasions to sing gospels. Still, her mom had taken her to church quite a few times when she had been little. She tried to piece together her memories of the _feeling_ that came with gospels, and projected her voice.

For her, singing was oddly like flying. Putting the words together, her voice was the wind that gave strength to her wings. Someone had once said that her songs evoked a river of milk. It was an odd phrase, but she didn’t dislike it. Songs were like rivers: following the same current each time they were sung, but unique because the water that flew through them was never the same. Similarly, each new interpretation was slightly different, despite following the same frame.

Jordana ended her last verse on a crescendo, held the note for twenty seconds, then closed the book, smiling.

Everyone was crying. In fact, her song had been heard from all over the train, and most of her classmates had rushed to listen. She had even managed to wake up Robert, who had been sleeping up to that point. Roberta was peeking from the locomotive cab behind Jordana’s back. Oh, so that’s where she had been hiding.

“It’s already over?” She asked a little rudely.

“It was so beautiful,” Ferdinand sobbed. “Jordana, you have blessed our souls with your song. Thank you so much.”

For once, everyone seemed to agree with him. Jordana smiled, bowing slightly. More compliments were flowing in, some louder than others. Then they melted into a single word:

 _“_ _Encore, encore, encore!”_

“All right, all right,” Jordana said, silencing everyone with these simple words. “But only one more, got it?”

Cheers erupted in the makeshift chapel.

***

Lisa was bouncing around, unable to remain calm. It was something like 4pm, and she was itching to go outside. She was itching to go cycling, to move up the hills, to greet the sun, to feel the wind in her hair. But she could do none of that, being stuck in this stupid train.

“So like, am I supposed to roll a die for this one of sumthin’?”

“No, it works like this. You have two hundred points to dispatch between all those stats.”

“Oh man, that’s a lotta points.”

Ryoji had decided to initiate Bob to paper RPGs. Typhaine and Rebecca would be playing as well, and naturally, Lisa too. But Bob was a bit slow when it came to understanding the rules, so while everyone else had finished filling up their sheets, he was still figuring out the basics.

Lisa would be playing a female orc, a strong barbarian wielding a huge double-edged axe. The prospect of smashing virtual skulls was extremely pleasing to her. She intended to play rude, messy and brutal. Rebecca on the other hand had picked a cleric. Her character was a young boy dressed in brown robes, who fought with a magic rosary. She was attempting to doodle him, but she didn’t seem to be very talented, artistically speaking. Typhaine on the other hand, had created a character that was basically herself. Her elf was short, excited at all times, and very emotionally unstable. She also loved to make soup for her friends. And from what Lisa could tell, Bob’s character was a chubby woman in her forties, mother of something like ten children, and the group’s healer. The team was quite unbalanced, but Ryoji being a rather benevolent DM, it’d probably be all right.

“Ryooo, I’m booooored,” she complained.

“Please wait a little more, the game will start soon,” Ryoji said in his soft, soothing voice.

“No but like... I want you to give me a piggy-back ride.”

“What?”

“Are you twelve or something?” Rebecca snorted.

“I might be,” Lisa replied, not sounding particularly ashamed. “I definitely have the attention span of a twelve-years old.”

“But why would you need me to give you a piggy-back ride?” Ryoji asked, dumbfounded.

“’cause if I can’t ride my bike, at least I’ll be able to fly,” Lisa said.

Typhaine blinked. Bob chuckled.

“O-okay?” Ryoji said. “Rebecca, you mind explaining the rest to Bob while I fulfil a friend’s request?”

“Can do,” Rebecca said. “Have fun you two.”

She winked. Lisa didn’t know what that meant, and didn’t care. She jumped on Ryoji’s back, not noticing how it made him wince, and ordered him to run around for a bit. He tried to oblige, he really did, but as soon as he left the passenger car, he tripped on a book that was lying on the ground and collapsed on his front. He ran into Ferdinand who was coming from the other way, and everyone fell simultaneously, while Magalie rolled her eyes.

“What are you even doing?” She asked.

“I wanted to fly,” Lisa mumbled.

“Ouch,” Ryoji said.

“Ooooh, what a predicament,” Ferdinand complained. “Please noble Ryoji, move away for you are crushing me!”

“Yes, yes, sorry,” Ryoji said, blushing once more.

“Oh wait,” Lisa said. “Ferdinand, can you make me fly?”

“Huh?”

“C’mon, you’re a knight! Isn’t it fulfilling _demoiselle’s_ requests what your job is all about?”

Ferdinand smiled very widely.

“A request! I can’t believe it! Finally! Yes, of course, I will make you fly! A hundred times if you like!”

Lisa shouted in enthusiasm, as he picked her up and made her spin. Magalie jumped to protect Ryoji, who nearly got kicked in the head in the process.

“Flying is a dangerous sport,” the big man commented.

“No kidding! Why did you even agree to this?”

“I didn’t want to disappoint Lisa.”

“Yes, well... I didn’t want to say this, but...”

Magalie whispered something in Ryoji’s ear that Lisa didn’t hear. In fact, she didn’t care. Playing with Ferdinand was so much fun! Well, except that at some point, they ran into a wall, which hurt quite a bit. And she was pretty sure that Florian was saying something like “how disgraceful” from somewhere, but the world was spinning, so she couldn’t pinpoint his location very accurately.

Man, life was good.

***

6pm. Suzie was trying to read a book, but couldn’t focus her attention on a single line. Between the killing game, the new motive, and her responsibility as the leader’s assistant, her head was quite full. Her chest was tightened with a diffuse sense of nervousness which she couldn’t quite get rid off. It was very annoying.

“Hey there. What are you reading?”

Sébastien flopped onto the seat next to her, wiping his eyes. He seemed a little tired.

“Uh,” Suzie stuttered, a little surprised by his sudden arrival. “I think it’s about… cars? I don’t know actually. I’m not really paying attention.”

“Eh? So you’re one of these people who pretend to read books because it makes them look intelligent?”

“Of course not!” Suzie shouted, scandalized.

Sébastien hardly seemed fazed by her outburst.

“Hey, don’t yell at me, I’m just askin’.”

Suzie put the book down, brutally. Sébastien opened the little bag that he was always carrying, and took out a long, slender arrow, which he began to inspect carefully.

“What are you doing?” Suzie asked.

“I bought these arrows recently,” he explained. “I was in a bit of a rush not to miss the train, so I didn’t have time to inspect them. I need to make sure the quality is top notch.”

“Why?” Suzie asked pragmatically. “When are you going to need arrows in the near future?”

“Who knows,” Sébastien replied mysteriously.

Suzie decided she _definitely_ didn’t like that answer. She would talk about it with Julie later: perhaps they could lock Sébastien’s bow somewhere in a closet, before he could hurt anyone. They were in a killing game after all, and she didn’t trust him. His laid-back attitude, his lazy smile, it made her feel very uncomfortable, though she didn’t really know why.

Sébastien was chuckling to himself.

“I was so worried I would miss the train… if I had known what was waiting for me, I would have taken my time. That’s hilarious, in a way. I’m always late, but the one time in my life where being late would have been good for me, I manage to be here on time.”

And he chuckled again. He looked oddly relaxed despite the bitterness of his words. Somehow, that made Suzie feel even worse.

“You don’t look worried,” she observed.

“Why would I worry? Worrying is very bad for you skin.”

“Your skin,” Suzie repeated dryly. “Of course, why didn’t I think of it before? I should relax a bit more, my body will thank me,” she added sarcastically.

Sébastien didn’t really seem affected. He kept smiling as he inspected his arrows one by one.

“Is there something you want to tell me?”

Many questions flashed through Suzie’s mind. _How can you be so calm? Why are you so weird? Can you please put the arrows away, because you’re freaking me out. Why did you want to talk to me?_

“No,” she replied.

“Okay,” Sébastien said serenely. “I’ll let you go back to your book about cars and stuff.”

He put the arrows back into his bag, got up and began to leave.

“But if you need to talk about anything, you can come to me at any time, okay?”

“Sure,” Suzie replied, confused.

He smiled to her one last time, then left. She picked up her book, thinking that if she ever had a problem, he was the _last_ person she was going to talk to. She couldn’t stop thinking about the arrows, and the way he had been inspecting them: careful, meticulous, mathematical.

_As the ultimate bowman, he probably never misses a target._

Julie would definitely be hearing about this

***

Roberta was still in the locomotive cab. The sun was setting on the ruins of Lorient – she didn’t know what time it was, but she figured Monoblade would probably order them to go to bed pretty soon. She hadn barely left the room at all during the day. Once during Jordana’s song, once to grab a book from the passenger car, a last time to grab some food from the kitchen. Apart from that, she had remained in the conductor’s seat, alone. It was now getting too dark to read, so she had put her book away. It was something about kids during the 2nd world war, trying to find their own way to resist against the German occupation. Quite a naïve book, all in all, but pretty enjoyable regardless.

“Is this where you’ve been hiding this whole time?”

Roberta jumped from her seat and put a hand to her belt, facing the newcomer. It was Florian, wearing and old man sweater and cleaning his glasses. What was he even doing here?

“What are you doing here?”

“Obvious. I was looking for you.”

That puzzled Roberta quite a bit. She hadn’t expected that.

“Why?”

“Use your head, girl. It’s dangerous to be alone in a situation like this.”

“I can defend myself.”

“Can you? Naturally, as the ultimate thief, one would assume that you’d have quite good reflexes, and a strong talent for _discrétion_. But what about ranged combat? Are you trained in this field?”

“I am. I’ve studied several martial arts. But why do you ask these questions?”

Florian remained quiet for a bit, twiddling the plastic flower that he was holding.

“Could you teach me?”

“What?”

“Could you teach me to fight? Please? I know I like to pretend that I don’t care, but I’m actually very scared of this whole situation.”

He wasn’t looking at her directly, and the way he twitched his fingers spelled “unease” quite clearly. Still, his request seemed sincere. Roberta crossed her arms.

“I could teach you some stuff. But it’s going to be hard, because you don’t seem to be very athletic.”

“Fine.”

“You’re probably going to wish you didn’t ask me.”

“Fine.”

“We start tomorrow, in here?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

They stood awkwardly in silence for a while. Then Florian regained his usual composure.

“Right. Thanks for having me. I’ll be on my way then.”

He left and closed the door behind himself.


	8. Pole Dancing, Kung Fu, and Aether

The third day was rather uneventful. Roberta woke up Florian at 5am, and they exercised together in the TV room. Suzie made a gigantic fruit salad for breakfast. Lucien gathered everyone for a prayer at 11am, but most of the students who came did it for Jordana’s singing. Bertrand spent most of the afternoon painting some elegant designs on the clothes that Monoblade had provided, and left them to dry in the bathroom. Lisa and Rebecca cleaned up the metal pole near the entrance, then attempted to use it for pole dancing. This quickly escalated into a grand contest, which Jordana won quite easily, despite Alexander’s attempt to win the votes by performing shirtless. Surprisingly enough, Ferdinand and Bob turned out to be quite good at pole dancing, too.

At 4pm, Jean, Suzie and Ryoji watched a movie about hamsters. It was rather mediocre, but Jean seemed to enjoy himself quite a bit, and Ryoji cried when the lead hamster’s romantic interest was eaten by a dog. Suzie tried to make him feel better by telling him funny anecdotes about her job, but they were so morbid that it didn’t make him feel better at all.

Later in the afternoon, Magalie picked up one of the books they had been given, and began to read out loud. Originally, Ferdinand and Lucien were her only public, but soon Bertrand, Florian, Bob and Roberta came to join them. Florian kept making annoying comments about the quality of the prose, which eventually became so annoying that Magalie threw the book at his face. She was severely reprimanded by Julie later, because book tossing wasn’t good for group cohesion (apparently). Lisa believed everyone needed a little book throwing in their lives every now and then, but didn’t raise her voice on the matter.

***

“Another day comes to a close,” Lisa commented as she flopped on her seat, twiddling her thumbs. “And still no sign of rescue.”

“Maybe they’re having a tough time tracking us down?” Julie suggested.

She was, once more, gazing through the window – though considering the sun was almost down, she probably couldn’t see much.

“Whoever decided to kidnap us must be quite a big deal,” Aphrodite suggested. “It’d almost make me feel proud if I didn’t want to escape so badly.”

“Yeah no kidding,” Magalie said.

“But it’s so weird though,” Jean commented. “Like, what can they possibly gain from this? If they just wanted us to die, there’d be much more efficient ways to do it.”

“I’ve been wondering about that too, actually,” Lisa said. “I kinda wondered if this wasn’t like, some big scientific experiment?”

“Say what?” Bob screamed. “But that’s totally evil!”

“Sure, and probably illegal too! But like... maybe it’s some billionaire who wants to study how humans react to some specific situations of crisis, or something.”

“Scary,” Bob said, adjusting his beanie (he tended to do that when he was nervous).

“I’ve considered the possibility too,” Aphrodite admitted. “But even so, this whole game feels a little too... twisted to be a simple experiment. Many of the variables are simply unnecessary.”

“You’re referring to the fact that Monoblade is constantly insulting us?” Florian asked.

“Among other things. This all seems too... specific. Why trap us in a train, of all places? Why here, and now? If one wanted to conduct an experiment, capturing the ultimate students seems like a poor choice. The public loves us, so of course the search is going to be much more intense, than if they had chosen... say, criminals for example.”

“So basically, what you’re saying is that whoever kidnapped us must have a grudge against the GTU?” Lisa summarized.

“That seems likely. What other connection do we all have?”

“There could be something, for all we know,” Rebecca said. “It’s unlikely, but this whole situation is so weird anyway. I’m kinda ready to believe anything at this point.”

Their conversation was cut off by the night time announcement. Lisa sighed, and closed her eyes. At least they had blankets this time.

“Say, Lisa?”

Ryoji’s voice. What did she want?

“What is it?”

“Mind if I sleep near you? I’m feeling kinda anxious tonight.”

“Of course. C’m’here, big boy.”

She gave him a quick hug, then closed her eyes once more. The night passed in a flash.

The next morning, Ryoji was in charge of making breakfast. But he was looked so lost that Lisa offered to help. She ended up doing most of the work. They made a chocolate cake, which was a little burned on the sides, and probably far too sugary, but still pretty good regardless. Ryoji enjoyed decorating it with frosting quite a lot. He drew a little snowman in a frozen field.

Roberta and Florian came into the kitchen as Ryoji and Lisa were putting the cake on a tray. Florian was wearing a tank top, which was uncharacteristic for him – usually he would wear shirts, fancy suits, and old people sweaters. He looked a little sweaty.

“It’s crazy how fast you can be at times,” he was saying, in admiration. “And I had no idea Kung Fu could be so complex!”

“You’re still too weak, though,” Roberta said, biting her thumb. “It’s going to take you a while to learn the big moves.”

“True, true, but I’m getting better already, am I not?”

Roberta shrugged.

“Somewhat.”

“What’s the deal, you two?” Lisa asked curiously.

Florian’s body language shifted completely once he heard Lisa’s voice. He went from a relaxed posture to a straight line in less than a second, and flicked his glasses at her.

“Why should I tell you that?” He asked flatly.

“Uh. It’s a simple question, no need to get angry.”

“Leave him be,” Roberta said. “People aren’t always in the mood to talk, Lisa. Sometimes you should just respect their silence.”

Lisa’s eyes narrowed, but she remained silent.

During the morning meeting, Julie announced that it was time to clean up, because “It’s incredible the mess eighteen people can make in just a few days, just look around yourself, this is a _désastre_ _.”_ Everyone was given a specific task, and worked in pairs in different areas of the train.

“I noticed that you haven’t assigned yourself any task, boss,” Sébastien said, staring at Julie, grinning. “Planning to slack off while we do all the dirty work?”

Julie echoed the grin.

“Why, I’ll be _extremely_ busy coordinating all your efforts, my dear classmates,” she said. “Because that’s what a leader has to do, right?”

“How convenient,” Jean mumbled.

“This wouldn’t have happened if you had all voted for me,” Alexander complained.

“C’mon Alexander, don’t tell me you’re _still_ feeling sore about your defeat?” Lisa asked incredulously. “It was two days ago, man! Learn to move on!”

She smiled at him, but all he did was wince. He winced a second time when he realized he and Lisa were on the same cleaning team. They had been assigned to the TV room, and so they went. But it turned out that Alexander was roughly as good at cleaning as Ryoji was at cooking.

“Seriously, this isn’t so hard!” Lisa complained. “Why do I have to perpetually babysit manchildren today?”

“Usually I would have maids taking care of that,” Alexander replied through gritted teeth. “I never realized it was such tough work!”

“It’s a good experience for you, then. Now you know how those maids actually feel! When you go home, you’ll be able to properly appreciate their work, for the first time in your life,” Lisa said cheerfully as she scrubbed the windows.

“That’s... true. I didn’t think of that.”

“How rich are your folks anyway?” Lisa asked.

“Pretty damn rich, I think. Rich enough to buy their own island.”

Lisa whistled.

“Yep, definitely high top of the pile. I thought my folks were rich, but that’s nothing in comparison.”

“Your parents are wealthy too? That’s odd, you don’t look the part.”

He was apparently trying to figure out where to put all the objects he had picked up from the floor. He dropped them on one of the couches and decided to sort them out later.

“My mom is the GTU’s director, actually,” Lisa said.

“Say _what?”_

“Yeah, pretty crazy, huh? But don’t start whispering to the others that my talent is fake or something! I’m the _realest_ biking pro, me getting my acceptance letter has nothing to do with her.”

“Uh, if you say so. Say, how am I supposed to use this thing?”

He was pointing to the vacuum cleaner rather helplessly, as if waiting for it to start working on its own.

“You could try to plug it in, for a start,” Lisa said. “That usually helps.”

When the cleaning was done, Julie made a careful inspection of each carriage, making sure that everyone had done their part.

“We’re going to have a serious issue with the trash if this continues,” she commented to herself. “We only have one bin, and pretty soon it’s going to be full. Monoblade?”

“No, I’m _not_ buying you guys another bin,” Monoblade complained when he came into the room. “Damn these spoiled brats! Never satisfied with what you give them! Remember who’s in charge here?”

“But you didn’t have a problem with bringing us new clothes and blankets,” Julie countered. “Why is it suddenly so hard for you?”

“Say, if I offer to take out the trash once a day, what will you guys do? It’d be the perfect way to get rid of evidence!”

“Huh? What are you even talking about?” Alexander asked.

“When you guys begin to murder each other, of course!” Monoblade said, waving his tiny arms in the air.

“You’re still going on about that? No one’s going to murder anyone, obviously!”

“Hehe, that’s what you think, buddy. Remember what happens tomorrow?”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Alexander replied darkly. “You’re going to pay for this.”

Monoblade left the room, giggling to himself. Julie had already left, so Alexander and Julie followed her.

Bob had made some kind of weird soup for lunch. There were some heavy bits floating inside, which were quite hard to identify. Lisa didn’t try to think too much about it as she ate.

“I should have asked you all sooner, but no one has any allergies?” Julie asked. “If some of you do, please inform Suzie, she’ll write it down for me. The list will be pinned in the kitchen at all times, and same goes for any special diets you may have. We’ll do our best.”

“Wow Julie, how can you be so calm at a time like this?” Jean asked.

He looked a little sick, staring at his soup as if it were a bowl of mud.

“What do you mean?” Julie asked, blinking.

“You haven’t forgotten what happens tomorrow, right? Monoblade’s vote thing.”

The room suddenly felt a lot colder. Julie appeared to have genuinely forgotten.

“Uh, no I hadn’t forgotten, of course. But I don’t think it’s going to be a problem, really.”

“Huh?” Lisa said. “How come?”

“We can all vote for ourselves. If the vote ends up being a tie, Monoblade will have no reason to murder one of us. It’s very simple.”

“But what if Monoblade bans us from voting for ourselves?” Aphrodite asks. “He can manipulate the rules as much as he wants.”

“Uh... I hadn’t thought of that. But we could just use a basic rotation system then, right? Each person votes for the person on their right. Easy.”

Aphrodite nodded, slowly.

“That would work, yes.”

After lunch was over, nobody really knew what to do. Rebecca and Lisa were gazing through the windows in the passenger car, hoping to see something pop up in the distance, any sign that rescue was on its way. Ferdinand tried to cheer everyone up by telling a story, but even he seemed to feel disheartened by the situation. Lucien suggested another prayer, and considering nobody had anything better to do, they all agreed.

The afternoon went extremely fast, and soon night fell once more on the train. Lisa was so worried that she couldn’t get any sleep. Good thing too, considering it was her turn to guard everyone for the night.

“I have a suggestion,” Jean said a little before the night announcement. “How about we put the towels on the floor, and sleep all huddled together tonight? I feel like we might need to feel the comfort of others, somehow.”

“That’s... actually not a bad idea,” Rebecca admitted.

“True,” Julie said. “Let’s do it quickly, before the lights go out.”

Lisa too thought it was a good idea. As the lights went off, and her eyes slowly adjusted to the dark, she noticed that Bob had rested his head on Ryoji’s stomach for the night. They both appeared to be sleeping peacefully. It was cute.

It seemed like only five minutes had passed when Roberta went to release her from guard duty. Lisa lied down next to her friends, closed her eyes, and sighed. She knew that she wasn’t going to get much sleep, but might as well try. She felt mentally exhausted.

At around 5am, after being woken up a nightmare, she realized the room wasn’t totally quiet. There was a little sound, like a vacuum cleaner, but much softer. Something fell next to her. Lisa realized it was Roberta’s body. The girl was unconscious. What was going on?

But before she could alert the others, she felt herself grow dizzy. Her head was extremely heavy. In a matter of seconds, she was on the floor again, and everything went dark.


	9. The Vote

Lisa woke up in the conductor’s cab, having no idea how she had ended up there. She was sitting on the driver’s seat. Monoblade was sitting on the other seat, looking at her directly.

“Hello! How do you feel today Lisa?”

“Terrible,” she replied honestly. “What am I even doing here?”

“Why, have you already forgotten what day today is? I’ll give you a hint: it starts with September, and ends with 5th.”

Lisa’s heart sank. Suddenly she was wide awake. Her fingers were trembling, and she began to sweat. No, no, it was too soon, she wasn’t ready.

“Aha! You remember now!”

“Where are the others?” She asked.

“Either still sleeping, or in the TV room. Now, turn on your Monopad, and don’t make me wait!”

“What if I refuse to vote?”

“Oh _please_ do,” Monoblade said, his voice filled with delight. “That’d be against the rules, and I’d get to execute you! And boy, do I love executing people!”

“You sick bastard,” Lisa said, feeling all the colors being drained from her cheeks.

She turned her monopad on. She hadn’t used it once since the leader’s election. It felt weird to see the screen with all of her friend’s faces on it. The only face she couldn’t select was her own, which was marked with a red cross.

_The bastard. He knew we wanted the vote to end up in a tie, and he created a scenario where we couldn’t even do that._

That meant she actually had to vote for someone. One of her classmates had to die, and perhaps her vote was going to determine who it was. She had to choose.

“You only have ten minutes, so hurry up a bit!” Monoblade said.

_What do I do? I can’t vote for Ryo or Bob, that’s for sure. But Typhaine is so cute and tiny, and I really like Rebecca, and Ferdinand is so funny, and Magalie is always at his side, and..._

She was starting to panic. It was such a little thing to do, and she felt utterly powerless.

_Three days ago, these people were all strangers to me. Would I trade their lives, if it could save mine?_

Then it hit her.

_What if everyone votes for me?_

It wasn’t impossible. She thought she had made a good enough impression, but how would she know? What if the others decided she was too loud, too annoying, too brutal in her honesty? Such cute, little flaws... but someone _had_ to die, and it could be her for all she knew. Perhaps her classmates would determine that she was the least necessary among them.

But no, of course not! She had some close friends already, and she was nice, and-

_And you were wrong before. About the leader’s election. You thought you were going to win, but you didn’t, did you?_

Her heart was racing in her ribcage, threatening to shatter it. She began to frantically analyse each of her classmates’ behavior. Who was most likely to be removed? Florian was always acting so rude with everyone, so maybe it would be him. And Alexander had been such a tool, so perhaps...? If she voted for one of those, would she have a higher chance of survival?

“Five minutes left!” Monoblade shouted happily.

_Are you even hearing yourself? You can’t think like that, it’s just wrong. No matter what they did, neither of them deserves death for it. There’s no lesser evil here. The only thing you can do is vote at random: it’s the fairest way._

But what if her finger accidentally hit Ryoji’s, or Bob’s icon? What if the vote results were made public after that? Would they be angry at her? Would they want to still be her friend? What if they died because of her?

_Even if they do, that’s not your fault. It’s all the fault of the kidnappers. Don’t beat yourself up and pick someone already._

She closed her eyes, looked away, and tapped her screen. A little sound informed her that her vote had been received. She was breathing hard, and sweating even more. Opening her eyes again, she checked the screen.

She had voted for Jean.

“Oh I’m sorry Jean, you don’t deserve it,” she said, her voice full of sadness.

But at least it wasn’t Ryoji or Bob, so that was good.

“Geez, that took forever,” Monoblade complained. “Get out now, and join the others in the TV room.”

She walked through the passenger car, where half of the students were still asleep. She tried to wake up Roberta, but the girl didn’t move. That sleeping gas must have been powerful stuff. Feeling ashamed, she left the passenger car, went through the entrance, dining car, kitchen, bathroom corridor, and finally found herself in the TV room.

“Oh thank god you’re here!”

It was Bob. He ran to give her a hug. She actually felt like crying just a little.

When Bob let her go, she looked around the room. Aphrodite, Julie, Ferdinand, Typhaine, Alexander, Rebecca and Jean were also there.

Jean was here. Oh god. When she saw him, her whole body shivered.

“You okay?” Bob asked.

“No, not really,” she said, allowing a heartless giggle to escape her.

She sat down on the bench, while Bob tapped her shoulder in a friendly manner. Ferdinand was sitting across from her. It was really strange, seeing him without Magalie. He looked a little lost without her. Or perhaps that was just the vote... yeah, it was probably the vote.

“So... what did you do?” Julie asked, almost timidly.

It took Lisa a while to realize the question had been addressed to her.

“Huh? You mean, during the vote? Uh... I voted at random. Seemed like the best thing to do.”

“Cool, cool, I did the same thing!” Bob said.

He raised his hand for a first bump. Lisa gave him one.

“I voted at random too,” Julie admitted with a sigh. “But then I opened my eyes, and I saw who I had picked. Don’t tell her, but... it’s Roberta.”

The room seemed to feel a little colder.

“That was... surprisingly brave of you,” Aphrodite commented. “To confess that.”

“Sorry, I just had to get it off my chest. I feel horrible, even though I didn’t really have a choice.”

She looked at the others expectantly. Lisa realized she wanted them to confess to. But she couldn’t do it, not right in front of Jean, it would be completely heartless.

“I voted for Lisa,” Aphrodite said, calmly.

“What?” Lisa repeated, in shock.

“I didn’t mean to, my finger slipped,” Aphrodite said. “I’m sorry.”

Lisa pondered for a bit. Did that mean she had actually intended to vote for a specific person? But then who was it?

Better not think about it too much.

Florian was the next to enter the room. He looked terrified.

 _He must know,_ Lisa thought. _He knows that he’s one of the least popular among us, and he’s afraid to die._

She couldn’t say anything. She wanted to go back to sleep, to forget this day ever happened. Her hands were trembling uncontrollably. Bob’s hand was oddly cold on her shoulder. She realized he was perfectly calm.

“Bob, how can you be so...”

Her voice trailed off, and she didn’t finish. Bob looked at her in the eyes, looking incredibly sad.

“When you live on the street, you’re used to seeing your buds dying,” he said softly.

“I’m so sorry,” she said.

“’s okay, dun’ think about it.”

Roberta was the next to come in. She looked a little upset, but didn’t say anything, and went to sit in the corner furthest from everyone. Next Ryoji came in, and then it was Sébastien, Magalie, and, and, and. Eventually everyone was gathered in the TV room.

Lisa grabbed Ryoji and Bob’s hands, and closed her eyes. She heard Monoblade’s voice, but it was strangely distant. As if he were speaking from behind a glass window.

“The votes are in! It was a rather close call, but we have a winner.”

“Who is it?” Typhaine screamed, tears flowing down her cheeks.

Monoblade laughed, and laughed. Lisa had never felt so angry before. If she hadn’t been paralysed in fear, she would have run over and punched him. That bastard deserved to die, to have every bone removed from his body, and his skin ripped out.

“The lucky winner of today’s vote is... Sébastien Rive! Congratulations!”

A rain of confetti suddenly fell from the roof. Sébastien was aggressively scratching his own hand. He didn’t say anything, but raised his head when he realized that everyone was staring at him. A bizarre smile was plastered on his face, it made him look deformed.

“What’s... what’s up guys?” He asked, giggling. “Why are you looking at me like that? I didn’t hear, what did he say?”

“I said it’s you, my boy!” Monoblade yelled. _“It’s your turn to die!”_

“Wh-what? What did you say?”

Sébastien had gotten up from his seat. His face was completely torn up and unrecognisable. He was scratching himself so aggressively that his hand was bleeding. His arms and legs moved in a grotesque fashion.

“I’m... it’s me? You guys... you guys...”

Nobody said anything. Lisa was clutching her friend’s hands so strongly that her knuckles were getting white. She felt like her skin was about to burst.

“Please end this,” Florian said, sounding disgusted and terrified. “Please, don’t leave him like _that.”_

“Like what?” Sébastien said, beginning to cry. What’s going on? Flo, buddy, please explain, I can’t-”

“Just _kill him already,”_ Florian begged.

“Roger that!” Monoblade said.

“Huh?” Sébastien said. “What does that-”

A large metallic chain dropped from the ceiling, and a huge shackle closed around his neck. Before he had any time to do or say anything, the chain retracted itself, projecting Sébastien through the roof and out of the train.

“An opening?” Bob shouted in shock.

“No, he can’t breathe the air!” Typhaine squeaked.

“Please stop!” Ferdinand begged.

The TV screens all turned on as one. Monoblade’s face appeared at the front. When had he left the room?

“I prepared a very special execution for Sébastien Rive, the ultimate bowman!” he said cheerfully. “Wait and see!”

He moved away from the camera. Sébastien was alone in an empty street, next to the ruins of what had once been a supermarket. He was standing up, but his eyes didn’t seem to register anything.

An arrow shot from nowhere, and hit him in the shoulder. He screamed in pain, trying to identify the origin. But as he was doing that, another arrow came from the opposite direction, hitting his other shoulder. Crying in pain, he tried to unzip his bag and take his bow out. But before he could do it, a third arrow pierced him in the chest, and he fell on his back.

“No, no...” he was moaning in pain. “Guys, it hurts so much, why, why... what did I do...? I’m so sorry, please someone save me, I can’t-”

Another arrow hit him, then another one, and yet another. It seemed to rain arrows, and it never ended. Even long after he stopped moving, more arrows kept hitting him, until he looked like nothing but a grotesque hedgehog, resting in a pool of blood.

The screen went dark again, and Monoblade’s voice rang through the speakers.

“And _that_ , my beautiful students, is how you kill an ultimate.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sébastien's death portrait: https://imgur.com/a/xdEHS4W


	10. Fries, Courtesy, and Birds

It was a strange morning for Lisa. Somehow, she managed to keep a clear head – perhaps it was because everybody else was crying around her. Ryoji in particular, had been extremely shaken by the event – nothing that her or Bob could say managed to calm him down. She didn’t know if he feared for his own life, or mourned Sébastien’s, or if it was merely the shock of witnessing an actual execution. It didn’t matter – Ryoji was suffering, and she had to help him in any way she could.

Ferdinand and Magalie had been the closest to Sébastien. Ferdinand crawled into a ball, wrapped himself in a blanket, and cried on the floor. Magalie didn’t cry, but as she walked through the train aimlessly, pale and confused, she looked a little like a ghost.

Aphrodite, Jordana and Florian seemed to recover from the shock pretty fast. Bertrand promised to paint a memorial as soon as he found the courage. Julie went to hide in the bathroom, and didn’t come out, even as Jean and Suzie called out for her. Rebecca was supposed to make breakfast that morning, but no one seemed to be very hungry. Lucien prayed for Sébastien’s soul, and was eventually joined by Typhaine and Alexander. The morning seemed to drag on and on and on. Eventually Lisa fell asleep on a chair. Even though she had barely woken up, she felt completely and utterly exhausted.

At around 2pm, Julie came out of the bathroom. It was supposed to be Sébastien’s turn to make lunch, so she volunteered to do it herself. She peeled some potatoes, cut them, and deep-fried them using the pan. On the side, she made three different types of sauce, and managed to fish out some ice cream from the freezer for dessert.

“I felt like we could all use some good, fat fries,” she commented everyone came in for lunch.

“Thanks Julie,” Typhaine said a little weakly. “That’s a good idea actually.”

“How about we watch a really terrible movie this afternoon?” Rebecca eventually suggested. “All together in the TV room. Something to distract us from...” (she gestured vaguely) “all this.”

“Not a bad idea,” Jean said. “I think I saw a pretty lame _Star Wars_ clone on the DVD pile, I’m pretty sure it’s going to be downright awful.”

“Great!” Rebecca said. “Just what I need! Who’s with us?”

Typhaine, Bob, Ryoji, Julie, Suzie, Aphrodite, Magalie and Ferdinand agreed that it was a good idea. Bertrand also agreed to come, probably out of sheer courtesy. Lisa was still sleeping, so she missed it.

The movie was as terrible as advertised, which made it hilarious in many ways. The heroine had fake boobs which were so obviously fake that they jiggled with every move she made. Rebecca laughed so hard that she almost choked on the milk she had brought. Ryoji still cried when she died at the end, but everyone hugged him to make him feel better.

Meanwhile, Aphrodite and Jordana were sitting in the makeshift chapel. Jordana was gazing at the horizon through the windows, while Aphrodite looked at the floor.

“He really did it,” she eventually said. “Up till now I couldn’t believe any of us would die, but it actually happened. And we can’t even tell Sébastien’s family what happened.”

“I wonder why he was picked, of all people,” Jordana commented in a matter-of-a-fact voice. “He did nothing to anger the group, did he?”

“None of us did,” Aphrodite replied.

“Don’t be naïve,” Jordana replied, smiling. “I’m convinced Sébastien was chosen for a reason. Somehow, the others believed it would be safer to remove him from the equation.”

“Do we really appear that calculating?” Aphrodite asked.

“Not calculating, no. Except for you and Florian maybe, I believe most of the others acted on instinct. But when faced with such a dilemma, people try to protect their lives first.”

“I think you’re wrong, but I don’t feel like arguing at the moment,” Aphrodite replied. “I don’t want to think about this.”

“As you wish,” Jordana replied.

Meanwhile, Roberta and Florian were talking in the locomotive cab.

“You really want to practice, even today?” Roberta asked.

“Yes, please. Today more than any day, in fact. When I see what the mastermind can do...”

“You want to become a better fighter, no matter how meaningless your achievements can seem against the power of the enemy, because the act of practising in itself will make you forget how insignificant your efforts truly are?”

“That is... yes, that is actually very accurate.”

“I can understand that feeling,” Roberta said. “But the TV rooms is currently occupied. We can’t train in this room because it’s too small, and the kitchen is a little too crowded. Wherever we go, we’ll be in plain sight. Are you okay with that?”

“I am. I don’t care if people see me, I don’t even care if I make a fool of myself.”

“Fine. Me neither, actually. I just feel numb, honestly.”

They both nodded in understanding, and went to the second passenger seat, where Lisa was still sleeping. Alexander watched them curiously as they began to stretch.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“None of your business,” Roberta replied, flatly. “Also that question was useless, because what we’re doing is very obvious. Please don’t ask obvious questions.”

Alexander remained silent.

Lisa woke up eventually, and went to sit next to Alexander, rubbing her eyes. She felt extremely _heavy_.

“There’s some leftover fries in the dining cab if you’re hungry,” he said.

“Oh, neat. I’ll go grab some.”

She came back a few minutes later, carrying a rather large bowl of cold fries, and sat back next to Alexander, staring at Florian and Roberta’s training session as if they were some kind of TV show.

“Hey Alex,” she said. “Have you exercised at all since you came here?”

“Uh, not really. I have a personal trainer at home, it’s kinda hard to motivate myself when she’s not here.”

“I see. I could be your personal trainer though, wouldn’t that be neat?”

Alexander turned his head at her, raising both eyebrows.

“You would?”

“Sure. I could even exercise with you too. I’m kinda feeling absolutely terrible right now, but I’m usually a ball of energy, so... it’d be a way to use some of it. Since I can’t go cycling no more.”

“That’d be really cool,” Alexander said.

“Then it’s a deal,” Lisa said, chomping on a fry. “We start tomorrow though, ‘cuz today-”

“You feel like shit, I get it.”

They shook hands to seal the deal. Lisa returned to her bowl of fries. Then she left the carriage, and went to have a twenty-minutes shower, because she was _such_ a rebel.

***

When the movie ended, Ryoji was in somewhat higher spirits. He and Bob decided to clean the dining car together, figuring it would keep them busy.

“Say Ryo,” Bob said. “Can I ask you a question that’s been bugging me for a while now?”

“Sure thing, what is it?”

“Your left hand. Why do you only have four fingers?”

Ryoji’s pinky was indeed missing from his left hand. So far, nobody had bothered to ask him what that was about. He flexed his fingers pensively.

“It’s a bit of a weird story, actually. I don’t know if you’re going to believe it.”

“’okay, I want to hear it anyway.”

“Okay.” (Ryoji’s voice grew a little distant, as if he needed to go back in time for this one). “You see, I’ve got this very weird cousin who’s in a cult of some sort. They’re called the ‘radiant waves’ or something like that. I grew up near the Mediterranean sea, and I think these people worshipped some kind of water deity.”

“Oof. A cult, huh? That’s a bad start.”

“Yeah, and when I was twelve, my parents wanted to go on holidays, so they had to find somewhere to put me. This cousin of me, she was already an adult by then, so they asked her to take care of me for two weeks.”

“Hold on,” Bob said, frowning. “Why wouldn’t you simply go on holidays with your parents? Seems like the easier solution, pal.”

“Uh... what do you mean?” Ryoji asked sounding genuinely puzzled.

“Well, I’m not an expert, on account of... never havin’ had the opportunity to go on holidays meself, but ain’t this supposed to be a family thing? Parents takin’ their kids to the sea, that kinda deal?”

Ryoji looked a little struck for a moment, then he recovered.

“I think my parents just didn’t like me very much,” he admitted with a tired laugh. “But they did bring my brothers!”

“What? Ryo, my dude, bro, that’s even worse! If they took your brothers, they should have taken you too, what the fuck?”

“Uh... true. It’s true isn’t it?”

Ryoji sniffled.

“I don’t want to think about it right now though, if that’s okay.”

“Ah, sorry pal. It’s the rebel in me that wanted to talk, but I respect that. So what next?”

“What next? Ah, right, the... cult thing. My cousin actually kinda wanted to force me to join them. Saying ‘they’re real nice when you get to know them, you’ll see, it’ll be fun’. So one day, I said ‘sure’, and came with her. I didn’t really know what to expect, and was kinda afraid she’d kick me out if I refused.”

“And these weird people... cut off your pinky?” Bob asked, biting an apple.

“It was some sort of entrance ritual,” Ryoji explained. “For new members to prove their devotion. Of course I didn’t want to do it, but I was too scared to say no. I kinda believed it was all a big joke, but... when they brought the knife, I figured it was real. I was so scared I couldn’t move. It didn’t even hurt, because the fear was blocking out everything else. I think I eventually passed out.”

Bob winced.

“Crazy folks you got here. Crazy folk your cousin too. What was she _thinking?”_

“No idea. I didn’t know back then, but she was psychologically unstable. She’s in a hospital now, but... I think that cult still exists somewhere. Sometimes they send me threatening letters, calling me a traitor and stuff like that. I usually burn them.”

Bob whistled.

“I didn’t realize you had suffered so much. Wanna hug ol’ Bob to feel better?”

“Old Bob? I thought you were younger than me.”

“Who cares, just hug me bro!”

Ryoji did, and it was as great as it always was. Perhaps even better than before, Bob thought – cuz they were friendos now, real pals with a secret handshake and everything. Bro hugs always felt a little softer than normal hugs.

“So yeah, that’s my sad story,” Ryoji eventually said, looking at his feet. “I hope I didn’t kill the mood.”

“’course not! I mean, when you lookadit that way, it’s almost a little funny, kinda. Crazy folks with their stupid ideas and stuff.”

Ryoji blinked.

“I had never thought of that!” He shouted, eyes wide. “But you’re right, these people were absolutely ridiculous! I can overcome my terrible fear of cults by making fun of them!”

“Yeah, sure, go for it! Sounds fun!”

Ryoji laughed. It seemed a little purer than before, Bob thought. Ryoji laughed a lot, but it was so often a nervous chuckle, or just a polite one, that it felt good to hear him laughing just for the sake of being happy.

“I’m curious though,” Ryoji said after he was done cleaning the table. “Will you tell me about yourself a bit? What it’s like, to be a hobo, and all. Because to be honest, I have no clue how you all actually live. I know that you can get a few coins from begging in the streets, but is that really enough to fulfill your every day needs?”

“What are you talking about, my dude?” Bob asked. “I have a job!”

“What?” Ryoji said. “You have a job and you’re _still_ homeless? How is that even _possible?”_

“It’s actually a lot more common that you might think. Hobos aren’t just a bunch of lazy fuckers, y’know.”

“No no, I knew that, but... gosh, I had no idea. Why are houses so expensive?” (He had closed his fist and was looking at the sky, as if he were questioning God’s decisions).

“Hella expensive, yup, ’specially in Paris! But if you don’t mind, Bob will tell you more about that tomorrow, yeah? Works for you? I kinda wanna think about what I’m gonna say before I say it. Sort out the words in my brain a bit.”

“Okay,” Ryoji said. “No problem.”

They finished cleaning up the dining car, and then hugged once more, because they were such good bros.

***

Ferdinand had been a wreck all day. Magalie was getting a little tired of him, but remained at his side nonetheless. She couldn’t exactly leave him, after all. It’d be a little irresponsible.

“You want to eat something?” She asked him.

They were in the now empty TV room. Their sole company was Bertrand, who was painting a memorial for Sébastien on a large canvas provided by Monoblade.

“I don’t want to go yet,” Ferdinand said. “I want to wait for Bertrand to finish the memorial first.”

“I already told you it’s going to take a while,” Bertrand said calmly. “I could just inform you when it’s done.”

“I can wait,” Ferdinand said.

Bertrand sighed.

“All right, well I’m going to grab a bite, then,” Magalie said. “You’ll stay here, right?”

“Yes, I will,” Ferdinand said, nodding.

She left the room. Bertrand raised his eyebrows.

“Are you two uh... in some form of a relationship?” He asked politely.

Bertrand was always polite. No, what was the word? Courteous. He even said hello and goodbye to Monoblade every time he saw him. Ferdinand could only admire that about him – courtesy was, after all, the knight’s greatest quality. An interesting word it was, ‘ _courtoisie_ ’. Originally it meant “with the same attributes as someone who is from the court (as in, the king’s court)”, so in short, someone who is like a nobleman. Noblemen weren’t originally very polite, but then they made up this whole myth about themselves, in love stories and poems, where they described themselves as the _élite_ of politeness, and that’s how the word changed meaning from “court person” to “polite person who knows proper manners”. Or something like that. Magalie had taught him that, but Ferdinand wasn’t sure if he had understood everything properly. At any rate, it was neat.

Oh, perhaps he should answer Bertrand’s question at some point.

“No, we are not romantically involved,” he explained quietly. “We are simply good friends.”

“All right,” Bertrand replied. “Good to know.”

“Why is it good to know? Were you planning on hitting on me?”

Ferdinand had no idea why he was saying something like that. It came out of nowhere. He tapped his own head a bit, as if he were trying to fix his brain.

“No,” Bertrand said. “I simply like to stay in touch with people, learn about their lives, step by step.”

Magalie was back by that point. She was bringing some hastily-made sandwiches. Magalie was very bad at making sandwiches. She always overfilled them with things which had no business ever being in sandwiches. Like bits of carrots, peanuts, sometimes even applesauce, or plain water. Still, Magalie’s sandwiches had a lot of personality, Ferdinand couldn’t deny that. Seeing some food reminded him how hungry he was.

“Can I have one?” He asked timidly.

“Of course, dummy. I made it for you.”

He grabbed onto the sandwich Magalie had made for him, and started eating very fast, making a bit of a mess and nearly choking. Had she mixed butter, cherries and chicken? It didn’t matter, he was too hungry to care.

“You idiot,” Magalie said with a smile as she sat next to him.

***

Lisa had been wandering through the train aimlessly, when she found herself in the locomotive car. It was the first time she visited it since the original investigation. It felt like ages ago.

“What are you doing here?” Roberta asked.

“Oh, you know,” Lisa said. “Stuff.”

“If you don’t have any actual business here, I’d rather be left alone,” Roberta said coldly.

How blunt. But it was just her character, Lisa told herself. She didn’t like being around people all that much, and didn’t see any reason to pretend she liked it. So when someone was stepping over her boundaries, she expressed her discomfort right away. Simple, honest.

“Okay. Uh, you look a bit weird though. Are you cold?”

“A little,” Roberta admitted.

“You want me to get you an extra blanket?”

“Blankets are uncomfortable. But thanks anyway.”

 _Wow, our relationship has greatly improved since we first met,_ Lisa thought. _She probably still doesn’t like me very much, but at least she isn’t being openly aggressive._

“Well, there’s a scarf in the cupboard in the chapel,” she said as she left. “Dunno who it belongs to, but you can take it you like.”

“Okay,” Roberta said.

Lisa left, pondering who the scarf could have belonged to. She found Ryoji lying on the floor.

“What are you doing?”

“I fell earlier,” Ryoji explained. “And sorta… didn’t feel like getting back up. So I’ve been lying here for a bit more than half an hour.”

Lisa chuckled.

“Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all.”

***

Julie lied down on her row of seats, grabbing as many blankets as she could. The fourth day was coming to a close (or was it the fifth?), and she felt completely exhausted. Suzie was sitting across from her, staring at the window silently.

“You see something out there?” Julie asked. “And I don’t mean something depressing. Something that would actually give me courage.”

“I do, actually,” Suzie said. “I see some birds.”

“Birds? Really?”

Julie stood up, and looked through the window herself. Indeed, there appeared to be some birds, flying in the distance. They were too far for her to determine the specie, however.

“Shouldn’t that be impossible?”

“It probably should,” Suzie replied. “And yet, here they are.”

_And yet, here they are._

Julie went back to her makeshift bed, and closed her eyes. That was exactly what she needed. Instead of remembering Sébastien’s execution, she could imagine herself flying with the birds outside. Perhaps they would die, but she didn’t care. The slightest ray of hope was all she needed. And thus, when she fell asleep, it was with a smile on her lips.


	11. Tofu, Pillow Fight, and Body Discovery Announcement

Lisa woke up five minutes before the annoying morning announcement. She tried to exit the passenger car stealthily, but tripped on Ryoji’s arm, and woke everyone up when she fell and screamed.

“Huh, liz’?” Bob asked. “You okay? Nothing broken?”

“Just my pride,” Lisa replied with a thumb up. “But that happens often, so it’s okay. You had a nice dream, Bob?”

He nodded, and started telling Lisa about his dream. He had dreamt that he was in a plane made out of toilet paper, and that he was trying to shoot some pigeons with a bow and some arrows. Oddly enough, Ryoji had a similar dream (though in his, he purposefully tried to avoid the pigeons because he didn’t want to hurt them). Bob was very excited by this bro-dream concept, and Lisa left them to their bro time as she went to the dining car. Alexander, Julie and Suzie were already there, and Ferdinand was taking care of making breakfast.

“Morning,” she said with a wave. “I know it’s only been five days or so, but I’ve gotten so used to seeing you guys, it’s like my previous life never existed.”

“What a fascinating concept,” Suzie commented.

“Lucky you,” Alexander said with a thumb up. “I certainly miss my acquaintances!”

“Your fans, you mean?” Julie asked, sipping tea.

“Yeah, I miss them a lot too,” Alexander admitted, shoulders slumped.

“It’s okay Alex!” Lisa said. “People will go _crazy_ when we finally get out of here, can you imagine? Your fans will be dying to hear the story of our adventures!”

“Huh, that’s true,” Alexander said, scratching his young beard. “That’s something to look forward to, I guess. Thanks Lisa!”

“You’re very welcome! Don’t forget we have our _special training_ after breakfast, ey?”

“I would never.”

When she had met him, Alexander had been wearing some very tight clothes, probably a special wardrobe put together by a professional to make him look as sexy as he could be. But it had been a few days, and now he was wearing some very baggy clothes, provided by Monoblade and painted by Bertrand. With his beard growing and his more relaxed attitude, he seemed like a completely different person. She liked him better that way. He looked more human.

It took half an hour for everyone to gather around the table for breakfast. Ferdinand had made bowls of rice and fried tofu, which was a very odd choice for breakfast, but actually very tasty. Jordana was the only one who refused to eat, but she never ate anything for breakfast anyway.

“I didn’t expect you to be so good at cooking, Ferd,” Typhaine said excitedly. “When did you learn?”

“A knight’s first duty is to please!” He responded loudly. “So I took some classes when I was young. I’m sure my skills cannot rival yours when it comes to soup, however.”

Typhaine blushed.

“Come to think of it, you never made any soup for us, Typhaine,” Rebecca commented. “I was kinda curious, you know? I mean, they have to be the most delicious in the world, so that’s probably worth a lot, even for people who don’t particularly like soup.”

“I… I dunno about that. It’s just that, I wanted t- aaaaaaah!”

She screamed and dropped her bowl when she realized Monoblade was standing on the table.

“What are you doing here!” She squeaked, aggressively pointing her finger at him.

“He’s here to deliver more bad news, I assume,” Florian said darkly.

“The flower boy gets it right,” Monoblade said, cheerful as ever. “Since the last motive worked so well, I thought I’d use it again. So I’m giving you three days, and we’ll have another of those votes! Except this time we’ll be killing two people instead of one. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

“You gotta be fucking with us,” Alexander said. “We have to do that thing again?”

“No way,” Jean whispered. “I won’t do it.”

“Killing Sébastien wasn’t enough for you?” Lisa said aggressively. “How much blood do you need to spill until you’re satisfied?”

She was waving her glass around so much that she actually spilled some water on the floor, but she didn’t pay attention to that. Her eyes were on Monoblade only. Ryoji grabbed her shoulders to make sure she didn’t attack him.

“Oooh, how poetic,” Monoblade cooed. “What I’m hoping for is that I don’t have to spill any blood next time, though! My offer still stands: kill one of your classmates, and you can get out! That would even cancel the second voting event, because I’m just soooo benevolent.”

“Shut the fuck up, you asshole,” Lisa spat.

Monoblade laughed, and left the scene. Lisa wriggled free from Ryoji’s grip, and punched the table. It was actually very cheap, and broke.

“Lisa!” Julie said. “Calm your temper, damnit!”

“Or what, you’ll punish me? Go ahead, make my life worse, I dare you. Or maybe you want to take Monoblade on his offer and kill me?”

There was a shocked silence. Bob sighed.

“Lisa, we’re getting out of here. Ye’r not makin’ sense, you need to cool down.”

Lisa didn’t resist, and let Bob take her to the TV room. Ryoji anxiously followed them up, and eventually Alexander did too.

“I suppose that was to be expected at some point,” Julie sighed.

She put her unfinished bowl on the broken table. She didn’t feel very hungry anymore.

**

Lisa needed to punch a few things, so Bob, Ryoji and Alexander dismantled some of the cushion seats from the passenger carriage, in order to build some kind of makeshift punching-ball.

“Everything we use in here is makeshift,” Ryoji commented. “Makeshift beds, a makeshift chapel, makeshift cushions...”

“Could be worse,” Bob said with a shrug. “Me, as long as I have some food, a bed and a shower, I’ll be happy.”

“I have so much to learn,” Alexander commented in admiration.

When Lisa had calmed down, they moved on to their first exercise session. Bob and Ryoji participated too, and Rebecca eventually joined them. Roberta and Florian had their own little Kung Fu training going on in the same room, so it kinda felt like they were participating too. When they were all done, Jean made fresh smoothies for them, which was greatly appreciated.

The following afternoon, Ryoji held another paper rpg session. Aphrodite asked if she could stay and watch, because “It’s honestly more entertaining than TV, and besides it’s a social experiment in itself”. Ryoji had no problem with it, so he let her stay. Next, Ryoji and Bob had their talk about the hobo life.

“The thing you gotta understand is that it’s mostly a question of self image,” Bob was saying. “We all feel like major shits for bein’ homeless, and we try to cling on every little thing that makes us normal. We want to be tough, say we don’t fear hunger, or the cold, but we all do. It’s super horrible, feeling like we’re just a burden on others.”

Bob then explained that what he loved the most was trying to gather people together and making them work together on projects. It made everyone feel useful, and therefore _proud_ , which made him feel proud of himself in turn. He was apparently very good at it.

Then he moved on to talking about his depressing youth, how his mother had died giving birth to him and how he grew up in the street, but at this point Ryoji was crying so much that Bob thought it better to keep the rest of the story for another day.

The next day, several problems arose. Jean refused to get out of bed. Alexander and Lucien got into an argument, because Alexander thought Lucien had called him a sinner (in fact, it had merely been a clumsy metaphor, but it took some time and Aphrodite’s help to clear things up). To make it even worse, Jordana refused to sing during the morning prayer, which caused a lot of complaints, and made lunchtime particularly sour. Then it was Florian accusing Bob of having bad manners, which made Bob very sad, to the point where Lisa nearly challenged Florian into an open duel, and had to be sermonned by Julie about anger issues. She eventually managed to sort things out by organizing a giant pillow fight, which Florian refused to participate to on account of it being “childish and disgraceful”. Nevertheless, Lisa had a great time, and Julie could finally get some rest.

Everyone was getting tense, which only made sense considering the situation and the incredibly tight space that they were all stuck into. The bathrooms were the only places where one could be truly alone, and only for a brief time. It seemed like only a matter of time before someone would snap. Julie was desperately looking for a solution to the problem, but in vain.

At 7pm, Magalie offered to make a lecture about Italy during the middle ages, which Florian and Ryoji seemed to be very excited about. Hoping that it would keep everyone busy at least for a few hours, Julie allowed it. Thankfully Magalie was a pretty good teacher, and the class went on without trouble.

When night time came, Lisa fell asleep as soon as her head hit the (makeshift) pillow. She dreamt that she was back home with her aunt and cousins, baking a huge pie together. Except some nasty little gnomes were trying to ruin their pie by adding unwanted ingredients inside the dough. They kinda looked like Monoblade, but bluer. Suddenly Lisa’s aunt turned to face her, and said: “Quick, you have to wake up, all of you! Something terrible has happened!”. Except her aunt’s face oddly looked like Aphrodite, but why would Aphrodite be in her dream? She was-

“Guys, hurry up, something horrible has happened in the kitchen!”

_What?_

Lisa was suddenly awake. In a second, she was on her feet, running toward the kitchen. She didn’t pay any attention to her surrounding until she reached her destination.

Then she stopped, and screamed. On the floor, lying unconscious in a pool of blood, were the bodies of Roberta and Ryoji.

“A body has been discovered!” Ran Monoblade’s voice through the speakers.

Then Lisa threw up.


	12. Bathroom Nightmare

Lisa was on the floor, and panting. No, it couldn’t be real, she couldn’t believe it. Sébastien had been enough, she couldn’t afford to lose two of her classmates. Not now, nor ever. She refused to believe it, and besides-

_Wait. Monoblade said that one body had been discovered, but there are actually two. What does that mean?_

Suddenly her eyes shot open, and she scrambled toward Ryoji’s unconscious form.

_Please don’t be dead please don’t be dead, please-_

He was breathing. Lisa felt a few tears running down her cheeks.

_Oh thank god._

Still, it meant that Roberta had died. It was difficult to process the thought. Roberta was dead, someone had killed her, Roberta was-

“Roberta is dead!” Lisa shouted.

“What the _fuck?”_ Came Florian’s voice behind her. “What, that’s- no!”

He had never sounded so angry before. He ran toward her body, grabbing her by the shoulders, dipping his knee in the blood.

“Roberta, answer me! This isn’t happening, right? Roberta, _say something already!”_

But she was soaked in blood, and clearly lifeless. How could Florian not see it? What was happening to him?

“Florian, stop!”

That was Aphrodite. Lisa hadn’t known she could be so forceful. _What a day full of surprises,_ she thought bitterly.

It felt like everybody was screaming at the same time. Lisa felt like she was trapped in a tiny box, her head bouncing against the walls each time someone said something. Eventually Julie managed to shut everyone up, and silence came back on the room. About time.

She didn’t look good. Her usually well-combed hair was a complete mess, and her pajama was all wrinkled. Still, she stood upright, looking serious and determined.

“Who did this?” Julie asked, sounding disgusted.

“Monoblade will probably have something to say about this,” Aphrodite said.

And indeed, there he was, dropping onto the stove elegantly.

“Did you like my discovery announcement?” He asked stupidly. “I’ve been practicing all week! Pfuhuhu, you guys have no idea how _badly_ I’ve been waiting for this moment!”

“Get to the fucking point,” Florian snarled.

“Oho, riled you up, didn’t I? I totally intended to do that, I’m happy to see it worked. My students, I have the pleasure to inform you that I’ve come up with some new rules!”

“Again?” Aphrodite said. “What is it this time?”

“Well, as you’ve probably figured out already, one of you murdered Roberta. Whoever the culprit is, they probably got tired of your stupid faces!”

And he laughed again. Nobody interrupted him, but Florian looked like he had a hard time containing his rage.

“So, here’s how it goes. I’ll give you bastards a little time to investigate, so you can try to figure out who the culprit is. Then I’ll open the train, and we’ll all go to the trial room! It’s underground, lovely place you’ll see.”

“What for?” Julie asked. “What’s the point?”

She seemed lost, rather than angry. This whole thing was probably beyond her at that point.

“You guys will be discussing the identity of the culprit, of course! If you get it right, I’ll murder that person for you. Another wonderful Monoblade-brand execution, you’ll love it! If you get it wrong though, I’ll probably just kill everyone. Except for the culprit, naturally.”

“What?” Julie asked, very softly.

“So basically, all of our lives are at stakes,” Aphrodite commented. “This changes things drastically.”

“I’ll make them pay,” Florian said through gritted teeth. “I’ll make them chew their teeth one by one, and they’ll be _thanking_ me.”

“No more questions?” Monoblade asked.

“Uh, I do,” Typhaine said timidly. “How are we supposed to figure out the culprit? We’re not detectives.”

“What, that’s 16 people… wait no, Sébastien is dead too,” Monoblade said, looking at his hands. “Still, 15 people working against one! And that person is no professional murderer either, so it shouldn’t be too hard, right?”

Typhaine didn’t look convinced, but didn’t add anything.

“No more questions? Then I’ll-”

“What if there are accomplices?” Aphrodite said. “What if the crime was committed by two or more people?”

Monoblade pondered for a second.

“As long as you get either of them, that’s fine by me. There will only be one execution per trial though, so make sure you get the right guy! You guys don’t wanna spend the rest of your time with a murderer, believe me.”

Since there were no more questions, Monoblade left.

“It’s of crucial importance that we keep our calm, in such a situation,” Julie said, addressing whole group. “We have limited time to investigate this murder, so let’s be efficient.”

“There’s 15 of us left, and 8 rooms to search,” Suzie said. “How are we supposed to cover everything?”

“We’ll be working in pairs, each pair in charge of a single room. Ferdinand, Aphrodite, you’ll be taking care of the locomotive cab. Magalie and Lucien, I leave the chapel to you.”

The four of them nodded, and left.

“Next team will be Bertrand and Suzie. Search the bedroom- I mean, passenger car. Jean and Typhaine will be taking care of the dining car.”

“Good luck to all,” Bertrand said, before leaving the kitchen.

“Bob, Rebecca, I’ll leave the TV room to you. Jordana and Lisa, the women’s bathroom, and Alexander and Florian can take care of the men’s bathroom.”

“That leaves on your own to search the crime scene,” Jordana noticed. “Shouldn’t there at least be two people there? And Ryoji doesn’t count, considering he’s unconscious.”

“Good thinking. I’ll leave Alexander in charge of the men’s bathroom, and Florian can help me with the crime scene.”

Florian nodded, and crouched near Roberta’s body. Lisa gave him a weird look, and left with Jordana.

“I think it was the right call, to elect Julie as our leader,” Lisa said on her way to the bathroom. “I don’t think I could have handled that kind of situation as well as her. I probably would’ve just puked again.”

“We will see how well she handles the trial,” Jordana said mysteriously.

Lisa pushed the door open, and gasped.

“Oh shit. Something definitely happened here.”

“You’re referring to the mirror, I assume?” Jordana asked.

“Of course! I wasn’t broken when I took my shower yesterday.”

Lisa jumped onto the sink, and inspected the mirror carefully. There was a round crack in the mirror, several pieces had fallen into the sink. There were little traces of blood on them. She took out her monopad from her pocket, and took a picture. She had a feeling it was going to be important.

“The showers have been used recently,” Jordana said. “The curtain and floor are still a little wet.”

“It could mean a lot and nothing,” Lisa replied.

Next they inspected the cupboard’s contents. The shower gels were still neatly gathered on their shelf, and so were the cleaning tools. It didn’t look like they had been used at all for the murder. However, when they got to the perfume section-

“That bottle is empty,” Jordana commented, taking it from the highest shelf. “I’m pretty sure it wasn’t empty before.”

“That’s a big bottle too,” Lisa added. “Who could have used so much perfume, and what for?”

“I wonder,” Jordana said. “If drinking this much perfume wouldn’t be dangerous for the human body.”

“You don’t mean-”

“That it was used as makeshift poison? It’s certainly a possibility.”

Jordana put the bottle back onto the shelf. She had to stand on the tip of her toes. Lisa went to inspect the toilet. She didn’t expect to find anything in there, but was proven wrong.

“There’s a… piece of cloth, I think?” She said, tilting her head to one side.

“Take it out so we can see it better,” Jordana suggested.

Lisa wasn’t exactly enthusiastic at the idea of sticking her hand inside a toilet, but did it anyway. The object was a bit stuck, so it took some strength to get it out. _Good thing I’ve been exercising with Alexander._ _I knew it would come in handy!_

“What is that?” Jordana asked.

“Uh… it’s like some kind of veil, I think? But it’s pretty tangled, there are knots everywhere.”

“Stranger and stranger,” Jordana commented. “You’d better take a picture of it too. After all, the fact that you found it in the toilet strongly suggests that the culprit tried to get rid of it, so it’s probably important.”

“You sound like you’ve done this your whole life,” Lisa commented as she placed the yellow piece of cloth on the sink to take a picture of it.

“Oh, don’t flatter me,” Jordana said with a giggle. “Hm?”

“What is it?”

“There’s something else in the toilet, I think. But it’s…”

Jordana’s voice trailed off and faltered. She looked puzzled, which was a rare sight. Lisa frowned, and went to look.

“Aaaah!” She screamed. “It’s a piece of meat!”

“Indeed. What could it be doing here?”

“I got no clue, and I don’t want to know,” Lisa replied.

“...”

“No, no, I’m not taking it out of-”

“We need to inspect it more closely,” Jordana said.

“Oh lord,” Lisa said as she once more had to put her hand in the toilet.

She put the ‘thing’ on the sink next to the cloth, and inspected it after having washed her hands. It was a triangular piece of red meat. One of the edges was round, the other two were sharp, hinting that it had been cut.

“I admit that I’m incapable of explaining what this means,” Jordana said.

“Yeah, no kidding. That’s the last thing I expected to find in here, honestly.”

Both girls took a last look inside the room.

“You think we’ll find anything else?” Lisa asked.

“I doubt it,” Jordana said. “We’ve looked everywhere.”

“Let’s see how the others are doing, then,” Lisa said as she left the bathroom.

Alexander came out of the bathroom empty handed. He said there was nothing particularly suspicious in there. He and Jordana went inside the TV room while Lisa headed back toward the crime scene.

Florian and Julie were talking about something in the corner. They didn’t pay any attention to her, so she took some time to inspect the bodies.

Roberta was in a pretty bad shape. She had a rather nasty wound in her belly, where a sharp object had apparently pierced through her clothes. That appeared to be where most of the blood came from. She had also a purple bruise on her right cheek, and some glass fragments were stuck in her hair. But the strangest thing was her neck: she had a circular thin bruise that looked a little red. Lisa wondered if she had anymore bruises, hidden by her clothes. It might be important to investigate those as well, but she simply couldn’t.

_Hm? Is that?_

She was about to move on to Ryoji’s body, but she noticed something else. There was something off about Roberta’s hand. One of her nails had broken, and little clots of dry blood were stuck under it. Lisa took pictures of all the things she had noticed, then moved on.

The first weird thing about Ryoji was the smell. He smelled oddly sweet, a strong aroma of lavender which was very unlike him. The second weird thing was that he was wearing his surgical mask. Why would he feel the need to conceal his face like this? He also had a wound at the back of his head, with little glass fragments stuck inside. His body was stained with blood… wait no, it smelled too sweet. Was that grape juice? The glass shards that had fallen around his head were green, so it wasn’t impossible, Lisa reflected.

Then she noticed it. Ryoji was holding a knife in his hand, and it was covered in blood. Real blood this time, not juice. When has this gotten here?

A sneaking suspicion crawled at the back of her brain, like a disgusting worm. Ryoji might be the culprit. It was entirely possible that he had stabbed Roberta, and that she had hit him with the bottle in self-defense. That would explain why he was lying unconscious next to the body, a bloody knife in hand. That was the most obvious assumption to make, and she didn’t doubt that most of her classmates would easily be convinced, if someone suggested the theory.

But it was Ryoji. He wasn’t only her friend, he was one of the sweetest, least harmful person she knew. There was no way he would kill someone, she was certain of it. Still, if she wanted to convince everyone, she’d better investigate thoroughly.

She went back to check Roberta’s body for a second. She wanted to see if there were any glass shards underneath the body: but when she lifted the corpse, she found none.

_Hm. Tough luck._

Inspecting the rest of the kitchen revealed little traces of blood that had splattered on the walls and furniture. Judging from the shape of the stains, she tried to recreate the situation in her mind, but it was too difficult. She had hoped to figure out the culprit’s height, but there were too many variables to take into account, and her brain hurt.

When she opened the fridge, she realized that one of the bottles was missing. Nothing else seemed out of place.

“Say Julie, Florian?” Lisa asked. “Do you have any thoughts on this?”

They seemed to finally notice her.

“Lisa? What are you doing here?”

“Me and Jordana are done with the bathroom, so I came here. So I ask once again, do you have any thoughts on this?”

“Florian and I were arguing,” Julie explained. “Doesn’t it feel to you like there should be more blood?”

Lisa looked at the crime scene once more, and frowned.

“Uh… maybe? I’m not sure how much a person is supposed to bleed. You tried asking Aphrodite? She’s usually pretty sharp.”

“Oh, good point, I’ll do that.”

Lisa nodded, then began to leave the kitchen. She realized the door was only half open.

“I didn’t know you could close the doors,” she mumbled to herself curiously.

“There’s a button here,” Julie explained. “It can open and close the doors, we just never used it before. Florian and I tested it, the door is almost soundproof.”

“That’s very important information!” Lisa shouted, eyes wide. “I have to write it down somewhere! Thanks Julie!”

“No prob.”

Lisa left the room. She talked to Jean and Typhaine in the dining car, but apparently they hadn’t found anything during their investigation. They both looked really disappointed.

“In a way, not finding anything is evidence in itself,” Lisa said, shrugging. “That means this room probably has nothing to do with the crime. It’s good to know, right?”

Next was the passenger car. Bertrand and Suzie had removed all the cushions from the seats.

“You guys found anything?”

“Indeed,” Bertrand said. “Look here.”

He brought her a very large t-shirt, which was covered in blood and grape juice.

“What’s that smell?” Lisa asked, wrinkling her nose.

“It’s pretty strong, huh?” Suzie said. “We were curious about that too. Since those clothes were worn by the culprit, we’re thinking they were trying to disguise a smell.”

“But which one?” Lisa asked, puzzled.

“We’re hoping Aphrodite will have an answer to that,” Suzie replied with a shrug.

 _Better not rely on her too much though_ , Lisa thought. _She can’t work miracles if we don’t all do our part._

“Where did you find these clothes?”

“The culprit hid it under one of the cushion seats,” Bertrand said. “It’s a good thing we tried to remove them, or we would never have found it.”

“And… do you by chance know who they belong to?”

“It’s hard to tell,” Suzie said. “They look like those clothes Monoblade gave us, so they didn’t belong to anyone, per se. Still, judging from the size, the culprit had to be somewhat large, no?”

Lisa winced at the implications. It seemed every new piece of evidence she found only served to damn Ryoji further. Quickly thanking Suzie and Bertrand, she ran to the chapel, where Magalie and Lucien were still investigating the room.

“It’s pointless,” Magalie was saying. “We all slept here, the culprit couldn’t have hidden anything in this room, it would have been way too dangerous.

“Still, we were given a duty, and it is of primal importance that we fulfill it perfectly,” Lucien reminded her.

Lisa was originally planning to go see Aphrodite, but suddenly she remembered something.

“Hey guys,” she said, feeling a little tired from running around so much. “Did you try to open the cupboard over there?”

“We tried, but it’s stuck,” Magalie explained.

“Oh, right. Don’t worry, I’ll open it for you guys.”

She kneeled in front of the cupboard, place her hand around the tiny handle, and pulled. It was empty.

“Huh? Why is it empty?”

A crashing sound came from behind. She jumped, only to find that Ryoji had woken up, and was now in the chapel floor. He looked tired, sick, exhausted.

“Ryoji!” She screamed, rushing to her side. “Are you okay?”

“Oho, hold on a second, there.”

That was Monoblade, walking behind Ryoji.

“You’re going to come with me, boy. You’re covered in evidence, can’t let you just run around and do as you please, huh? Come with me, boy.”

Ryoji didn’t look enthusiastic about the idea, but nodded anyway.

“Where are you taking him?” Lisa asked angrily.

“Don’t worry about that, I’ll give him back to you before the trial starts.”

The roof opened once more, and some big shackles grabbed Ryoji’s arms and legs. Lisa tried to grab his hand, but he disappeared from her sight before she could do anything, and the roof window was shut off once more. Her heart was beating fast. That was what had happened to Sébastien too, and he had died shortly after.

Then the bell rang.

“Okay folks, investigation’s over! You’d better go to the TV room quickly if you don’t want to join Roberta in hell!”

“It’s over already?” Magalie asked. “It felt so short!”

“The only way to go is forward,” Lucien replied. “Let us go, my friends.”

Lisa went ahead, and joined everyone else in the TV room. She hugged Bob when she met him, and told him what had happened to Ryoji, making him wince.

“Dun’ worry pal, I’m sure he’s good. You found anything useful in your investigation?”

“Too much stuff. It’s going to be tough defending Ryo out there, I hope I can count on you.”

“Of course!” Bob replied, puffing his chest. “I’d never let a buddy down!”

“Does anyone know what we’re waiting for?”

Everyone turned to look at Jean, who had just spoken.

“It’s just… Monoblade told us all to come here, but what for? I thought he would have made another little movie for us or something.”

“Oh, I’ve had a thought,” Jordana said.

On instinct, she grabbed the handle from the locked door, and pressed it.

The door opened.

“Huh?” Typhaine said. “It’s OPEN?”

“Looks like it,” Jordana said with a shrug.

“We can get out?” Jean asked, eyes wide.

“No way, you morons,” Florian said. “It’s just another fucking trap.”

“Well, I’ll go check it out,” Jordana said calmly.

She opened the door wide, and left. Lisa and Bob exchanged a glance, then followed her.

The last room in the train was the second conductor’s locomotive. Obviously, considering a train could be driven both ways, it needed two of those. The only difference with this one was that the door was open.

Lisa jumped down the stairs. She was… outside, and yet at the same time, not exactly. An artificial corridor led to some sort of building. Its walls were made of semi-transparent plastic.

“How weird,” Lisa said. “Why is that here?”

“So we don’t die from the poisonous air outside?” Bob suggested.

“Oh right. Better not tear it down then.”

They walked through the hallway, and opened the next door. It led into a completely square room, with a giant elevator in the middle. Aside from the door from which they had come, there were three more door, one for each wall. This building looked relatively new. Strangely enough, the room was completely devoid of furniture, or any form of decoration. The floor was a gigantic mirror.

“What a strange place,” Jordana said. “I checked, but all the doors are locked. I assume the mastermind wants us to board that elevator.”

“You would be right!” Monoblade chimed in, dropping from the ceiling. “Down there is the trial room, where hugger-boy is waiting for you all to _move your asses_ and join him for the super fun event that’s about to take place!”

“What did you do to him?” Lisa asked angrily.

“I simply provided him with a change of clothes. One that complimented his _physique,”_ Monoblade added with a laugh.

“Prick,” Lisa mumbled.

One by one, the others arrived. Typhaine was the last one – she looked tense and worried, chewing her nails vigorously.

“The only way is-” Lucien began.

“Down,” Jordana completed. “Let’s get inside the elevator, shall we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Roberta's death portrait: https://imgur.com/a/NOp0sP7


	13. Class Trial 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cast of survivors: 
> 
> https://imgur.com/a/xVYM91e  
> https://imgur.com/a/UivJO5Y  
> https://imgur.com/a/FUZGQc8

Lisa went in first. She was squished against the back wall. It seemed the elevator hadn’t been built to contain sixteen people.

“Aren’t we a bit too heavy for this thing?” Alexander asked.

“That would be hilarious,” Monoblade commented. “Either way, I don’t care. Seeya down there!”

The doors slammed, and the elevator went down. It wasn’t in any way soft, or gentle. Lisa felt like her heart had been projected into her throat. At least it was quick.

The door opened once more. The trial room was huge, the ceiling was probably at least a hundred meters from the ground. In the center was a very large rug, in the shape of a giant target. On top of the rug were eighteen desks disposed in a circle. In fact, they looked a lot like witness stands from a courtroom. The walls were made of stone, making it look like a medieval castle. There were some windows that cast some light inside the room, but it was impossible to see anything through them. Also, there was a rather large throne, next to the circle of desks. Monoblade was sitting on top of the throne, which seemed stupidly big for a robot his size. And sitting on the floor, back leaning against the throne, was Ryoji. He was wearing a strange full-body suit, which looked a lot like a prison uniform, with white and blue stripes.

His eyes widened when he saw his friends. He ran to hug Lisa and Bob, silently.

“Now that everyone’s here, please stand in front of the desk with your name,” Monoblade ordered. “And then we can begin the trial for Roberta Kruger!”

Lisa ignored Monoblade, continuing to hug Ryoji. Whatever had happened to him, it must have upset him quite badly. His body was trembling.

“It’s going to be tough, Ryo,” Lisa whispered in his ear. “The evidence works against you. But I’ll fight to clear your name, got it?”

He nodded, and then left to find his desk. He was right next to Florian, which made Lisa uneasy for some reason. It took her a bit of time to find her own desk. On her right was Bob, and on her left was Aphrodite. Ryoji was right across from her. Lisa quickly pondered if they had been placed at random, or if there was some kind of meaning to it.

Naturally, two of the desks ended up empty. Considering Roberta and Sébastien had died, some photos had been hung in their place, where their heads should have been. It was particularly distasteful, but not exactly surprising, so no one commented on it.

“Well now. Let’s begin with a basic explanation of the class trial! Present your arguments for who you think the culprit is, and when you’ve all reached an agreement, you just tell me, and I’ll start the vote. Everyone who doesn’t vote is executed, so that’s that. If the culprit is found out, they die. If not, everyone else does. Any accomplice to the crime is considered to be a criminal too, unless it was accidental on their part – and therefore you can vote for them too. But I will only execute one person per trial, so keep that in mind.”

“Wait,” Jean said. “Do you know who the culprit is?”

“Yup! Thanks to the security cameras in the train.”

“There were security cameras?”

“Of course! I can’t believe you morons never even noticed them. It’s not like they were very well hidden.”

“Is there a time limit on the trial too?” Aphrodite asked, staring at her thumb.

“No, not for the trial. But you can’t get out of here until you’ve reached an agreement of some sort, so keep that in mind. No sleeping or snacking in the trial room!”

“Let’s begin then,” Julie said. “I guess I should lead the debate. Firstly, let’s try to establish the time of death. Who was the last person to see Roberta?”

“Me,” Florian said. “It was around midnight when we split up. I went to sleep, and she remained in the TV room. I don’t know what happened after that, but Roberta usually slept in the conductor’s car, so I can only assume that’s where she went after I left.”

“Can anyone corroborate that statement?” Aphrodite asked.

“What the fuck does that mean?” Florian asked, coldly. “You’re doubting me?”

“Of course. There’s a murderer among us, I can’t afford to be as trusting as I usually am. When’s the last time _more than one person_ saw Roberta yesterday?”

“That would be us,” Magalie said, raising her hand, and pointing to Ferdinand who was standing next to her. “It was after I finished my lecture. We saw her in the kitchen, alone. She refused to talk to us and walked toward the TV room.”

“What time was it?” Julie asked.

“I’m not sure. It was before the night time announcement, obviously, because the lights were still on. I think the lights turned off something like half-an hour later, so it must have been 10:30.”

“And considering she was headed to the TV room, that corroborates Florian’s testimony,” Jordana added.

“True,” Julie said as she took notes on her monopad. “Next is the question of when the body was found. Aphrodite?”

“It was 5am when I found it, but I was alone at the time. Then I rushed back to inform everyone of my discovery, and within five minutes we were all gathered in front of the kitchen’s entrance.”

“So in short, Roberta was killed during the night,” Julie summarized. “While all the lights were out. Hm”.

“Our monopads have a flashlight function,” Suzie reminded her. “I don’t think that would have been an issue.”

“Still, there’s somethin’ weird,” Bob commented, folding his arms. “How did the culprit get past the guards?”

“Oh, that’s a good point actually,” Julie agreed. “The guard duty was basically set to prevent a murder from happening, so how did the culprit manage to fool the guard?”

“It’s very simple,” Florian said, arms crossed. “I cannot believe I have to spell it out for you morons.”

He had regained some of his usual composure, but the hatred was still very strong in his eyes.

“Go ahead,” Magalie said, rolling her eyes. “Impress us.”

“It’s obvious. The culprit would not need to fool the guard if he were a guard himself.”

Everyone seemed to ponder this statement for a bit. Lisa gritted her teeth. She knew where this was going.

“In fact,” Florian said with a nasty smile, “I can go further and reveal the culprit’s identity right away.”

“Seriously?” Typhaine squeaked. “No way!”

“You’re going to accuse Ryoji, aren’t you?” Lisa asked, trying to remain calm.

“Of course. He was on guard duty that night, from 2 to 5am. But when we found the body, Ryoji wasn’t in the passenger car or in the chapel, where we all slept. Instead he was at the crime scene: the kitchen. Ryoji, can you explain that?”

Ryoji had gone completely white, and seemed to be melting from the sheer hatred contained in Florian’s glare. He was still wearing his surgical mask, but felt the need to also hide the rest of his face with his hands.

 _Why won’t he talk?_ Lisa wondered. _Why doesn’t he try to deny the charges?_

“Huh, are you seriously accusing him?” Jean asked. “Sure, he’s suspicious, but like… it’s Ryoji. He’s a bit of a wimp, no? You really think he has what it takes to murder someone?”

“Jean, if you do not have anything intelligent to say, then just keep your mouth shut,” Florian said flatly.

Jean blinked a few times in surprise, but did as he was told.

“But hold on!” Bob said. “When we found Ryo, he was unconscious near the body, yeah? If he was the culprit, how did he end up like that?”

“Did you investigate the crime scene, Bob?” Florian asked.

“Huh? Uh no, because Julie told me to-”

“Then what gives you the right to talk?”

Silence. Lisa felt angrier and angrier by the second, but remained quiet. She knew that she had to counter, but it was probably too soon. Better let Florian have his little speech, and then look for flaws in his deductions.

“I thought so. It’s quite obvious what happened, if you look at the crime scene.”

All the monopads turned on at the same time. Florian had shared a photo.

“You’ll notice that Ryoji has a head wound, and that some glass shards were stuck to his hair. From this we can deduce that Roberta fought back when he attacked her. A bottle of grape juice went missing, and Ryoji’s clothes were soaked in grape juice, it’s elementary really.”

“You’re saying that Roberta managed to knock him out?” Alexander asked. “But then how did she die?”

“Simple. Ryoji stabbed her first, with the knife that we found at the crime scene. Knife that we found _in Ryoji’s hand,_ might I add,” he added, flexing his fingers as if getting ready to punch someone. “With the last of her strength, Roberta fought back, and hit him with the first object she found: a glass bottle. Ryoji was stunned, and that’s why he was unable to remove any evidence.”

“That makes sense,” Julie admitted. “I think.”

“It seems like the most obvious answer,” Bertrand added.

Florian turned toward Ryoji.

“We are lucky that you are such a clumsy moron, are we not? You disgusting prick. You seriously thought you could get away with it? You thought you could beat _me?”_

He was visibly having trouble containing his anger. Ryoji was trying to get the furthest away from him, without actually leaving his desk. He remained silent.

“Hey Florian?” Aphrodite asked. “Can you explain something for me?”

“What is it?”

“If I’m following your reasoning, Roberta is the one who smashed Ryoji on the head with the juice bottle, right?”

“Yes. God, how can you be so slow?”

“But then, isn’t there something strange?”

“Oh, I get it!” Lisa shouted. “Some of the juice should have spilled on Roberta’s body! But it didn’t, did it?”

Aphrodite nodded.

“Besides, there are several elements your theory fails to explain. Roberta’s other wounds, mainly.”

“My theory explains them perfectly,” Florian replied, angrily. “It’s obvious Roberta and Ryoji had a fight. He probably tried to strangle her or something. Maybe he punched her once, before using the knife.”

“But that would be greatly illogical,” Lucien countered. “If he had the knife from the beginning, he would have certainly used it. Besides, if they fought, there was the risk of waking everyone up, which would have been very dangerous for the culprit.”

“That part can be explained by the door button, actually,” Julie said. “If the culprit closed the door before attacking Roberta, we wouldn’t have heard anything. But I agree that Florian’s theory is a bit… weird.”

“Ryoji is an idiot,” Florian said coldly. “It is clear he did not plan things out very carefully, which is why the crime scene was such a mess. But if you still refuse to believe me, there is a very simple thing we can do: let Ryoji speak for himself. He has yet to counter any of my theories, or to explain why he didn’t perform his guard duty last night.”

Every head turned toward Ryoji. He shook his head furiously, grabbing to the edges of his desk. He didn’t say anything. Little tears appeared at the edges of his eyes.

“Ryo!” Bob said. “It’s okay, ya can talk, we’ll listen to you! Prove to us yer not the culprit!”

But Ryoji didn’t speak, and as silence grew longer, Florian began to laugh.

“Guilt. What a wonderful thing, is it not? He cannot even muster the courage to lie.”

He laughed again, but it was completely devoid of joy. Lisa frowned. Why hadn’t Ryoji said anything? She refused to believe Florian’s bullshit, but it was still worrying. What on earth was going on?

Then it hit her.

“Oh fuck,” she screamed, eyes wide. “Oh fuck oh fuck, oh fuck. I think I figured it out.”

“Figured what out?” Typhaine asked.

“Uh… something. Wait, I have to sort out the ideas in my brain first.”

“Take your time,” Florian said sarcastically. “We have all the time in the world.”

“What happened to you?” Jean asked. “You were weird before, but it’s like you’re purposefully trying to be a dick now.”

“Your opinion does not matter to me,” Florian replied, keeping his gaze fixed on Lisa. “Haven’t you noticed, Jean? The clever students are talking, so can it.”

“Geez, Flo, what the hell,” Jean muttered.

“Lisa, if you have something to say, why don’t you say it?” Julie asked. “If you have some doubts, we can try to figure this out together.”

Lisa slammed her desk with both hands.

“Guys, are you really sure the kitchen was the real crime scene?”

“What?” Ferdinand said. “Of course we are! That is where we found the body, and the blood!”

“Insufficient amounts of blood,” Aphrodite corrected.

“What, you’re a wound expert now?” Florian snarled. “That’s so fucking convenient.”

“Seriously, he’s definitely acting weird, right?” Jean asked. "Am I the only one seeing this?"

“If the crime scene wasn’t the kitchen, then where do you think it was?” Rebecca asked.

“The girl’s bathroom,” Lisa replied.

She shared the picture of the mirror, with the hole in the middle, and then zoomed on the blood.

“I think Roberta was ambushed in the bathroom,” Lisa explained. “Maybe someone punched her violently, and her head hit the mirror? That’d explain the bruise on her cheek, and the blood stuck in her hair.”

“Really now,” Florian said. “Real genius here, thanks a lot Lisa.”

“If you have a counter-argument, just spit it out,” she replied angrily.

“Do I really need to? If we found the body in the kitchen, that means she was killed in the kitchen. Every other scenario is unlikely at best. Anybody could have punched this mirror and broken it. We all bleed, so it’s not surprising that there’s some blood on the shards.”

“But who would do something like that?” Magalie asked. “Punching a mirror? That’s just weird.”

“Did you already forget, Magalie? Being a _historienne_ , you should be ashamed of having such a short memory.”

“Well, fuck you too,” Magalie replied sarcastically.

“Let me refresh your memory,” Florian continued, smugly. “Some time ago, _a certain someone_ felt a big rush of anger, and thought it was _very smart_ to punch a table. I assume that’s how monkeys express their emotions, but I am no expert obviously.” (He was talking exasperatingly slowly, as if addressing some young children or very stupid people). “Do you guys remember who that person was, by chance? I think her name begins with an ‘L’.”

Lisa rubbed her eyes, feeling tired. She had no idea why Florian was acting so weird – he was being so stupid, she didn’t even know where to start.

“Florian, what’s your point? Sure, I punched a table once, are you saying I broke the mirror too?”

“It does not have to be you,” he replied, waving a hand in front of his head. “It could be anyone, your actions merely proved that people with anger issues often break things.”

“All right, but then how do you explain the glass shards in Roberta’s hair?”

“Huh?”

“The glass shards were probably mirror shards, and they got stuck when Roberta was ambushed in the bathroom. Unless you want to counter that, too?”

“There… there must be another explanation,” he said, sweating.

“You and Julie investigated the crime scene, and you know that only one bottle went missing. And even if another bottle was used, how does that fit in your little theory? Roberta and Ryoji both hit each other on the head with bottles, after Roberta had been stabbed and strangled? Really?”

Florian opened his mouth to say something, but ran out of words. He punched his desk twice, groaning incoherently.

“This guy has lost it,” Jean said. “We’ve completely broken him.”

“It’s worse than that,” Jordana said. “Florian is supposed to be cleverer than that, no? And yet his theory is unlikely at best, and doesn’t take into account several pieces of evidence that he supposedly investigated himself.”

“Huh,” Jean said.

“That’s… incredibly suspicious now that you mention it,” Magalie agreed. “Florian, do you have something to hide?”

Lisa pondered this for a moment. Could Florian really be the culprit? Actually, she’d determine that later. She had yet to share her breakthrough with the others.

“Wait, wait, I got it!” Florian said, raising his arms in the air, nearly slapping his neighbors in the process. “Yes, yes, I underestimated my opponent, but now the truth has become clear.”

“Oh boy,” Jean said. “I’m afraid.”

“Expect more nonsense, children,” Jordana said with a giggle.

“Shut up!” Florian yelled. “It’s all clear I said! Lisa was right, the culprit _did_ kill Roberta in the bathroom. He then moved her body into the kitchen, lied down next to her, and _pretended_ to be unconscious, so we wouldn’t suspect him!”

Another moment of silence. Jean yawned.

“Uh, Aphrodite? Lisa?” Magalie asked. “Can one of you just… shut him up or something? I’m getting sick of him.”

“Sure,” Aphrodite said. “Consider the knife. If Ryoji had only pretended to be unconscious, why would he keep damning evidence in his own hand?”

“It was a trick, to lead us to the wrong answer!” Florian replied furiously, almost tearing the edges of his shirt.

“Is Ryoji a moron who didn’t do anything right, or some clever mastermind manipulating us into picking the wrong answer?” Lisa asked with a sigh. “Can you make up your mind already?”

“I already said I underestimated him!”

“But then why hasn’t he said anything since this trial began?” Aphrodite said. “Would you claim that this is all part of his plan, too?”

“Florian sure loves to dig his own grave, does he not?” Jordana said with a chuckle.

“That’s not funny,” Jean commented. “Why is everyone going bonkers today?”

“Wait, wait, there’s another possibility!” Florian yelled. “Please listen to- mmfhg!”

Ferdinand had moved from his desk, and was putting a hand on Florian’s mouth, preventing him from speaking.

“Please Florian, do not drag your own name in the mud like this,” Ferdinand said, shaking his head sadly. “It know Roberta’s death hurt you a lot, and I truly emphasize with your emotions, but for now you should remain quiet.”

He then raised his head, and looked at Lisa.

“You wanted to say something? Speak now.”

_Oh thank goodness Ferdinand._

“Where was I? Oh, right. In the bathroom, I found more than just the hole in the mirror. This was stuck in the toilet.”

She shared the picture of the yellow piece of cloth.

“Huh?” Bob asked. “Whuzzat?”

“It’s the scarf we found in the chapel’s cupboard, on the first day,” Lisa explained. “I believe it was used to strangle Roberta, which would make it the murder weapon.”

“So… not the knife?” Ferdinand asked.

“I think the knife was planted there afterward, to frame Ryoji,” Lisa explained. “That’s why it’s so hard to make this wound fit in any of our scenarios, and that’s why there isn’t enough blood at the crime scene: the culprit stabbed Roberta after she had already died.”

“Ew,” Magalie said. “That’s messed up.”

“Wait wait, Bob gets it now!” Bob said. “If the scarf really is the murder weapon, tha’ means we got less suspects, right? Cuz only few of us knew about the scarf!”

“And who knew about it?” Julie asked.

“Well, ‘s me, Ryo, Lisa an' Rebecca,” he said, counting on his fingers.

“That’s… that’s it?” Julie asked.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“So the culprit is one of those four?” Jean asked. “Well, I don’t wanna say it, but Ryoji’s the most suspicious, on account of him being the guard for that night.”

“Or,” Suzie said, “Ryoji tried to prevent the culprit from killing Roberta, and that’s why he was hit with the bottle.”

“Which would mean that the culprit is either Rebecca, Lisa or Bob,” Jean summarized. “Nice, we narrowed it down real good.”

“But I think it’s probably not Lisa,” Typhaine said softly. “Since she’s the one who showed us the scarf. The culprit wouldn’t want us to know about it, would they?”

Everybody turned to face Bob and Rebecca. Bob was sweating a bit.

“Rebecca, you’ve been weirdly silent during this whole trial,” Jean said. “What’s that all about?”

Rebecca looked uncomfortable.

“It’s just… you guys’ve been talking so fast, it’s hard to follow.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure, we’ll believe that,” Jean said.

“But wait,” Bob said. “This cupboard, wasn’t it stuck last time we tried to open it? Ryoji and I, we didn’t have the muscle for it, that’s why we asked for help! So I couldn’t take the scarf even if I wanted to!”

“How do we know you’re not lying?” Suzie asked.

“Because Lisa was there! And it was on day one, yer not gonna say I was already plannin’ a murder way back then, tha’s crazy talk.”

“It’s true, I was,” Lisa said. “But-’

“But Rebecca is the ultimate swimmer,” Jean said. “Opening the cupboard would be very easy for her, wouldn’t it?”

“I see,” Suzie said. “So it’s very likely that she’s the culprit, right?”

“No no no, guys, hey, stop!” Rebecca shouted. “I didn’t kill anyone, I swear!”

“Prove it,” Jean said, pointing his finger at her.

“Jean, please calm down,” Lisa said. “I appreciate your help, but there’s still a bunch of problems with Rebecca being the culprit.”

“Such as?”

“We’ve been in this train for almost a week now! Anyone could have found out about this cupboard at some point. Obviously, if the culprit did, they’re not going to tell us, but that doesn’t mean we can take their word for it! And secondly, Jean, imagine for the sake of argument that you wanted to strangle Roberta.”

“That requires a lot of imagination,” Jean replied nervously.

“You need the scarf for your plan, but you can’t open the cupboard by yourself. So you come to me and ask for my help. There’s nothing suspicious about that, is there? I figure you’re just feeling cold, so I give it to you.”

Jean remained silent.

“That’s true,” he eventually said. “We can’t suspect Rebecca just based on that, can we? I’m… I’m sorry.”

“II won’t forgive you that easily,” Rebecca replied, pouting. “I was super scared for a minute there.”

“He was just trying to help,” Alexander said. “Don’t blame him.”

“So in short, knowing that the scarf is the murder weapon doesn’t teach us anything about the culprit’s identity,” Julie said. “What a waste of time.”

“Not necessarily.”

That was Aphrodite. She was scratching her arm thoughtfully.

“What do you mean?” Julie asked.

“There’s a possibility no one has raised until that point,” she said. “What if Roberta had taken the scarf _herself?”_

Silence.

“What?” Typhaine asked. “But what would she need it for?”

“Are you suggesting Roberta was planning to murder someone?” Alexander shouted. “That’s a strong accusation!”

“Did she even know where the scarf was located?” Lucien asked.

“She… she did,” Lisa said, suddenly remembering. “I told her.”

“Huh?” Magalie asked. “Why didn’t you mention that before?

“Because it didn’t seem relevant. She’s the victim after all, and we were discussing potential culprits. But it’s not impossible she had it with her when she was attacked, and the culprit stole it from her.”

“Okay, okay, let’s rewind a bit,” Julie said. “We’ve been talking for so long, but it feels like we haven’t been doing any progress! What do we know?”

“We know that Roberta was killed in the bathroom, then later moved to the kitchen. We know that Ryoji left his guard post, and was attacked in the kitchen, though it’s unclear whether it took place before or after Roberta was attacked.”

“Hey, I have an idea!” Bob said. “We all think Ryoji is prolly not the culprit, yeah? Then why don’t we ask him who attacked him?”

All heads turned to Ryoji once more.

“But he’s refusing to talk,” Jean said. “For… whatever reason.”

“Why won’t you talk, bro?” Bob asked, sounding a little sad. “Dun'tcha trust me?”

Ryoji made a bunch of complex gestures, waving his arms around dramatically. It seemed he was trying to make everyone understand something. Lisa was beginning to figure it out.

“It’s not that he doesn’t want to talk, is it?” Aphrodite asked. “It’s that he can’t.”

“Can’t?” Typhaine asked. “But who’s preventing him from talking?”

“Ryo, is someone threat’nin’ ya?” Bob asked angrily. “If ya need me to beat up sum’one, I can do it, y’know? I ain’t scared!”

“I would gladly defend you Ryoji!” Ferdinand shouted. “For it is my duty as a knight! You can speak without fear, I swear it upon this sword I carry.”

Ryoji shook his head, again and again. He was crying.

“We need to figure out what happened to him,” Julie said. “Or we’ll never get anywhere.”

“No need,” Lisa said. “I… I already know.”

Bob looked at her expectantly.

“If there's sum'one I gotta punch, just tell me who it is, ‘kay?”

“It’s not about that, Bob,” Lisa said. “Ryoji cannot talk, _literally_. Because the culprit cut his tongue off.”

There was a short silence, then everyone began to scream all at once. Surprise, disgust, disbelief, it was an emotional storm, and Ryoji was nodding furiously. Lisa shared the second picture she had taken in the bathroom, the small piece of flesh. Now she understood what it was: it was Ryoji’s tongue.

“For how long have you known?” Aphrodite asked when calm returned.

“For a while, but… it’s been very hard to say it,” she admitted. “I couldn’t really believe it at first. But that’s why Ryoji still has his surgical mask, that’s why he can’t talk, and that’s why there was a piece of flesh in the toilet. The culprit wanted to silence him permanently.”

“So you believe Ryoji witnessed the murder?” Magalie asked.

“Oh, but then – wait, Ryo, tell us who it is!” Bob shouted. “Point with your finger!”

Ryoji shook his head, crying some more. _The pain he must feel,_ Lisa thought. _I can’t even begin to imagine._

“What d’you mean, ya can’t tell us?” Bob asked, dumbfounded. “But why would the culprit chop yer tongue if ya hadn’t-”

“He was hit on the head with a bottle,” Aphrodite said. “He’s lucky he didn’t die. The shock of being the target of such a violent attack might have affected his memory.”

“Besides, it was dark,” Lisa added. “It’s possible he didn’t even _see_ his attacker.”

“Everything about this trial feels so… wrong,” Jean said, shaking a little. “Are we sure this is even real?”

“Whadja mean, are we sure this is real?” Bob shouted. “Ya wanna look at Ryoji’s tongue to see if it’s still there?”

“Yeah, I would actually,” Jean replied in a tiny voice. “I want to have at least once certainty about this case.”

Ryoji nodded, slowly. With trembling hands, he removed his mask, and opened his mouth. Lisa forced herself to look. It was so, so, so wrong. It had been cut very clumsily, and clearly hadn’t had time to heal. Ryoji’s beard was partially concealing the blood, but it had clearly been a mess. Jean was getting paler, and Ryoji quickly concealed the wound once more.

“That was not necessary,” Magalie said, looking sick. “That really wasn’t.”

“Sorry,” Jean said, in a tiny voice.

“Let’s get back to the trial,” Aphrodite suggested. “We’re almost there now.”

“Huh?” Julie asked. “Are we?”

“We know how everyone’s roles play into the story,” Aphrodite said. “The culprit ambushed Roberta in the bathroom, then strangled her with her own scarf. But Ryoji witnessed the act, and that’s why the culprit had to silence him.”

“That… doesn’t sound right, does it?” Lisa asked.

“What do you mean?”

“There’s a contradiction there. Ryoji was attacked in the kitchen, that’s why the juice and his blood splashed against the walls, right? But why would the culprit attack him there if Ryoji had witnessed the murder in the bathroom?”

“I assumed he had been running away,” Aphrodite said. “And the culprit only hit him when they caught up with him.”

“But then, why was the door closed?” Lisa asked. “If the culprit had been in such a hurry, they wouldn’t have had the time to close it, and the noise would have woken us up.”

“What are you suggesting then?” Aphrodite asked.

“I believe it went the other way around: the culprit ambushed Ryoji in the kitchen, and hit him with the glass bottle. They had taken some special clothes from Monoblade’s crates, so that the blood and juice wouldn’t betray them when we all woke up. But some blood must have gotten on their face anyway, so they needed to wash themselves.”

“Oh, I see,” Aphrodite said. “That’s why they went to the bathroom.”

“There was evidence that the shower had been used recently when we investigated it this morning,” Jordana chimed in. “So Lisa’s theory fits.”

“So… does that mean the culprit is a woman then?” Alexander asked. “Since they went to the girls’ bathroom and all.”

“Not necessarily,” Lisa replied. “There’s nothing that prevents a man from entering the women’s bathroom, or the other way around.”

“Yeah but, wouldn’t the culprit go into their designated gender’s room anyway?” Jean asked. “Out of sheer habit.”

“They might have,” Lisa agreed. “Or they purposefully chose the wrong bathroom to lead us to the wrong answer – that’s a possibility too. We know the culprit has tried to cheat with our perception of the crime scene. That’s why they sprayed some perfume on Ryoji, and then the same perfume on the clothes that they hid under the cushion seats.”

“Oh, you think that’s what that was for?” Suzie asked, putting a hand in front of her mouth.

“Yeah, I think so. It’s a bit of an illogical move, but consider this: it was night time, and they were in a hurry. They had already had an unfortunate encounter with Roberta in the bathroom, so they were probably under a lot of stress.”

“By the way, we found the empty perfume bottle on the highest shelf in the women’s bathroom,” Jordana said with a smile. “So it fits in Lisa’s scenario quite well. Well done Lisa, you’re on a roll today!”

Lisa snapped her fingers.

“Wait, wait, hold on. Jordana, what did you say?”

“Hm? When?”

“About where we found the perfume bottle. You said it was...”

“On the highest shelf, indeed. I could barely reach it even when standing on the tip of my toes.”

“But that’s… that’s crucial information!” Lisa yelled. “How could I forget? Thanks Jordana!”

“Huh? Huh? Huh?” Typhaine asked. “Why is that so important?”

“We know the culprit used the perfume in an attempt to frame Ryoji,” Lisa said. “But the shelf is quite tall, and far from the sink. Only a tall person could have grabbed that bottle of perfume!”

“But the culprit could have simply used some kind of object to lift themselves higher,” Julie objected. “A crate, a pile of clothes, anything works.”

“But what would be the point?” Lisa replied. “There are other perfume bottles on the same shelf, much easier to reach. The only person who would think to grab something so high would be someone who had that perfume bottle in sight every time they came out of the shower. They’d have to be extremely tall, at least two meters high!”

“So basically, Ryoji again?” Someone said.

Ferdinand had apparently released Florian at some point, and the florist looked angrier than he ever had.

“Well done Lisa. You proved Ryoji’s guilt better than I ever could. You did an amazing job, didn’t you? He’s the tallest among us, it could only be him.”

He was foaming a little at the mouth, and spitting as he spoke. Lisa felt a little sad for him.

“No, that’s wrong,” she said. “Ryoji wouldn’t cut off his own tongue, nor would he hit himself with a juice bottle, almost killing himself in the process. There’s someone else here who is very tall though. Do you want to say something, Alexander?”

Alexander had never been so beautiful than at this very moment, where everybody turned to look at him. He had an air of absolute and pure innocence. His arms were crossed, he was looking at the ceiling. He was serene.

“I see. You suspect me because of that,” he said. “I’m hurt. I thought we were getting along quite well, but now you’re accusing me of having murdered Roberta and having cut off Ryoji’s tongue with scissors? Come on, Lisa,” he said. “Don’t you know me better than that?”

Lisa blinked.

“What did you say?”

“Huh? Did I say something wrong?”

“Oh, I see,” Aphrodite said. “Oh god.”

“Huh? What is it?” Magalie asked.

“Alexander,” Lisa said. “Why did you talk about scissors just now?”

“Hm? Because it’s the most logical option of course,” Alexander said, looking away. “Not that I ever tried, but if you had to cut someone’s tongue, this is the tool that you’d use, right?”

“So far, we’ve assumed that the culprit had used the kitchen knife to cut Ryoji’s tongue,” Lisa replied. “Because it’s the only sharp object we found at the crime scene, and nobody’s investigation turned up any bloody scissors anywhere.”

“Huh. Guess I must have gotten it wrong, somehow,” he said, shrugging a little. “What about it?”

“Alexander, you _know_ what I mean,” Lisa said. “There’s only one place in this train where one can find a pair of scissors.”

“The men’s bathroom?” Bob asked.

“Yes,” Lisa said. “And who investigated the men’s bathroom?”

Another silence fell onto the room. Alexander was sweating just a little. If anything, it only made him more attractive.

“What about it?” He asked.

“If a pair of scissors went missing, why didn’t you report it?” Lisa asked. “There’s only one reason I can think of: if that information was somehow inconvenient for you.”

Alexander let out a grunt. Lisa noticed that his legs were restless: he had been tapping his left foot for a while now, faster and faster as the conversation progressed.

“That… you can’t prove anything with that,” he said, sounding unsure for the first time. “The culprit could have just washed the scissors and put them back,” he said.

“But then, wouldn’t they be wet?” Jordana asked.

“Not if they used a towel to dry them,” Alexander replied.

“Still, there would be traces of water in the sink,” Jordana said.

 _“_ But why would I notice something like that in the first place?” Alexander roared, punching his desk with both hands. “It’s normal to find some fucking water inside a sink, give me a _break_ Jordana, you fucking freak! How c-can you be...” (He seemed to be looking for the right words, twitching his large hands together as he stuttered) “...smiling like that, like some fucking _angel_ , as you accuse me of _murdering_ a poor girl?”

“Why are you getting so worked up all of a sudden?” Jordana asked, pretending to be shocked. “Is something wrong? Do you need assistance? A glass of water perhaps?”

“This fucking _bitch_ ,” Alexander muttered to himself. “Of course I’m getting worked up, this is insane! I didn’t fucking kill Roberta, you bloody morons! Fuck!”

“I can prove you did,” Lisa said. “There’s only one piece of evidence left, but I hope it’s going to be enough.”

“Oh really?” Alexander said, trying to tame his fury. “Go ahead. Try me!”

“Okay,” Lisa said, taking a deep breath. “Show me your arms, Alexander.”

“… eh? Why the hell for?”

“Oh no, he’s sweating,” Jordana said, as if she were sharing a secret. “Whatever Lisa has in store for him, he’s really afraid of it!”

“Why is everyone going crazy today?” Jean asked, taking his head in his hands. “I’m fucking scared, guys.”

“It’s going to be all right,” Bertrand said.

“This trial is almost over anyway,” Lucien added.

“Go ahead, Lisa,” Julie said. “Finish him.”

“And explain yourself please,” Bob begged. “Because I dunno what you mean!”

Lisa climbed on her witness stand, and jumped in the middle of the circle. She didn’t know if that wasn’t against the rules or something, but she figured it didn’t matter at this point.

“Imagine I’m Roberta,” she said. “Alexander it trying to strangle me. I’m terrified, I don’t want to die. What do I do?”

“You try to free yourself?” Suzie suggested.

“If I were Roberta, I would try to attack the culprit,” Lisa replied. “I’d try to hurt him so he’d release me.”

She raised her arms at her face’s level.

“But logically, Alexander would have attacked from behind. So what could Roberta reach if she wanted to attack him?”

“His arms,” Lucien said, finally understanding.

“There was blood on Roberta’s fingers,” Florian said, weakly.

“And one of her nails had been cut off,” Julie added, triumphantly.

“So if I’m right,” Lisa said, “Alexander should have at least one wound on his upper arm. Say Alexander, I don’t think I saw that bandage before?”

Alexander yelped, suddenly covering his wound with his right hand. He was crying a little.

“It’s too late, you know,” Jordana said. “I took a picture while Lisa made her little demonstration. Let me share this with the group. Now...”

She placed her monopad on her desk, and began tapping a few buttons. Alexander yelled. It was a primal scream, coming from deep in his gut, so loud that three people had to cover their ears. Next he left his stand, running toward Jordana, his fists clenched.

“I did it once, I can do it again!” He warned as he grew close. “You’ll pay for this!”

And he punched Jordana in the face. It was extremely loud, and it made a horrible crushing sound when his fist hit her cheek. She fell to the ground like a dead person, not uttering a single sound. Typhaine, Jean and Magalie screamed at the same time, and ran away. Aphrodite didn’t move.

“Is that how you did it?” She asked Alexander, raising her eyebrows. “Is that how you punched Roberta in the bathroom?”

Alexander was much taller, more muscular than her, yet she didn’t flinch. She stared at Alexander, her eyes completely devoid of emotions, unil it forced him to take a step back. He went on one knee, panting.

“No,” he sobbed. “I didn’t do it. I would never… I’m not...”

Aphrodite put a hand on his shoulder.

“I don’t have the strength to forgive you,” she said. “I don’t think I’ll have the strength to be sad after your death, either.”

She turned around, and stared at Monoblade.

“We’re ready to vote,” she said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unrelated note: here's Ryoji in his prison uniform (he looks happy because I wanted something nice, but obviously he wasn't smiling much throughout the trial): https://imgur.com/a/kagyG7X


	14. Beautiful Execution

Ryoji rushed to Jordana’s side. She had a terrible bruise on her cheek, and she was bleeding. But oddly enough, she didn’t show any signs of pain.

“We’re ready to vote,” Aphrodite said.

“Yeah, I can tell. But it feels kinda pointless now, doesn’t it?” Monoblade asked, tilting his head to one side. “Still, what a wonderful show you’ve provided for me! I never enjoyed anything more.”

“Is that so?” Lucien asked.

“Hm?”

“You keep saying things of the sort,” Lucien said. “You keep saying how much you enjoy seeing us suffer. How much you love to watch us bloody our hands, and turn on each other. But is that really true?”

“What are you even on about?” Monoblade asked, sounding a little bored.

“You are only human,” Lucien said. “Even though you hide behind this robotic form, you are one of us. You cannot truly stifle your guilt. You cannot stop yourself from sharing our pain. You cannot truly enjoy this killing game that you made yourself, because such a thing is impossible. So I ask you the question I ask all sinners: why do you work so hard to make yourself unhappy?”

Monoblade didn’t reply right away. Alexander was still sobbing on the floor. Everybody else was looking at Lucien, afraid that he would die any second.

“Assuming you’re right,” Monoblade eventually said. “What can I do at this point? It’s too late for me. The only way to go is forward.”

“You misunderstand the meaning behind that phrase,” Lucien replied. “For you are not going forward but backward. You are digging yourself into a hole, and each seconds brings you closer to the fires of hell.”

“Am I?” Monoblade asked, his voice distant. “Interesting.” (A pause). “Still, there _is_ some true pleasure in it, you know,” he said. “Whether or not you want to believe it, and despite everything else.”

Monoblade got down from his seat, and clapped his hands.

“I’ve prepared a very special punishment for Alexander!” He said, his usual cheer back into his voice.

“Wait!” Typhaine screamed. “He hasn’t had a chance to explain himself yet!”

Jordana got back up, pushing Ryoji away. Her cheek had been deformed by the punch, but she showed no sign that she cared.

“Is that really necessary?” she asked. “We won. The mastermind has approved our vote. What else is there to understand?”

“Jordana, I sincerely wish I could help you, but I don’t know what’s wrong with you,” Typhaine said, very seriously. “Still, I want to hear. What pushed him far enough to kill Roberta and to cut off Ryoji’s tongue.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Florian asked, sounding exhausted. “He wanted to escape, like all of us.”

“But none of us murdered anyone,” Typhaine argued. “We all have weaknesses, but him, he must have something else. Alexander, speak!”

“There is nothing to say,” Alexander said. “I don’t even regret what I did.”

“But why?” Jean asked, in shock. “I swear you were normal before. What you did, that’s never been normal, that’s just _twisted_. What happened to you?”

“What happened to me was this _bitch,”_ Alexander snarled, pointing his finger at Jordana.

“Whatever could you mean?” She asked with a smile.

It looked strangely crooked.

“She’s been threatening me,” Alexander said. “Whenever we were alone, she would whisper in my ear how she was going to stab me, strangle me, strip my corpse naked and hang it from the ceiling.”

He shivered.

“I have no idea why,” he added very quietly.

“Is that true Jordana?” Lucien asked.

“Maybe,” Jordana said.

“What the fuck?” Jean said. “She just straight up admits it?”

“Jordan, that’s not funny,” Bob said. “Snap outta vit!”

Jordana sighed, and put one hand on her hip.

“You guys can be surprisingly naïve. This is a killing game, my survival has always mattered to me more than any of your lives. You can pretend that you don’t feel the same, but I just know it’s a lie.” (A pause.) “This game is fairly easy to win, all things considered. There is only one aspect of it that truly could threaten my life, and it’s Monoblade’s voting motive. So I had to remove it – and for that, someone had to commit murder. Alexander seemed weak enough, so I targeted him, and it worked.”

“But tha’s just so wrong, what the heck!” Bob screamed. “Jordan, I believed in you, why you… why you just admittin’ it like that? You realize what you’ve done?”

“I do. The mask has fallen, and I don’t really care. I’m not your ally, but your enemy. We cannot destroy the killing game, so all I have to do is win.”

A few shocked screams rang out, but she ignored them. Turning around, Jordana went inside the elevator. The doors shut, and she was gone.

“Okay, can I execute Alexander now?” Monoblade asked.

“You could always-” Lucien started.

“Oh shut up, you. I don’t need to hear your sermons. The others, you’re satisfied?”

Alexander began to scream again. No one was looking at him. He started to shout random names. Lisa’s name came twice. There was a loud metallic sound, and huge metallic claw locked around his neck.

“No, no, _please…_ I’ll never do it again, I-”

Before he could finish his sentence, he was lifted from the ground, and his body shot through the ceiling. There as a big screen on the left wall, which suddenly turned on. Monoblade was broadcasting the execution, like he had done for Sébastien. Lisa told herself that she didn’t need to watch, that she could just turn away, but curiosity got the best of her.

Alexander was standing outside, like Sébastien before him. The wind was blowing in his hair. But as the camera unzoomed, Lisa realized that he was standing inside a cage. He was holding his breath.

Some big robotic arms appeared, tearing off his clothes. He tried to fight, but only managed to injure himself. In a matter of seconds, he was completely naked. Both hands clutching to his private parts, he breathed in once, unable to contain himself any longer. Even then, it was striking how beautiful he was. The perfect proportions of his face, the perfect symmetry of his body, it was only exemplified by his torment and sorrow.

Then, for some reason, he slapped his own cheek, screaming in terror. Lisa figured he had been stung by a bug. When he removed his hand, she noticed a red spot on his cheek. Another bug appeared, then a third, each aggressively biting every inch of his skin that was left bare. There were more and more of them, with each passing second. He was screaming, yelling, slapping himself over and over, tearing out his own hair. He eventually threw himself against the cage, strongly enough to break his own nose. Then he turned his face at the camera once more.

He had become unrecognizable. His face was so swollen and deformed that he barely even looked human anymore. The spots were growing on top of each other, leaking pus and blood. Lisa finally understood: Monoblade had wanted to destroy his beauty before killing him.

The final blow was, in a way, quite merciful. A single bullet to the heart, and Alexander was no more. His body collapsed on the dusty ground, and the screen faded to black. Lisa felt sick.

“Done!” Monoblade said happily. “That was a terrific execution if I say so myself.”

Lisa didn’t reply. She sat on the floor and glared at her feet, breathing slowly. Then she waited, and waited, and waited some more. Perhaps there were some words, some thoughts, some gestures, but she ignored them all.

She wanted to _not be,_ just for a little moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here comes the end of part 1. I don't know why I killed Roberta and Alexander here: it occurred to me that they were the best choice for a first trial, but I could hardly explain my reasoning. I never really considered to keep them alive past that point (unlike Sébastien, who could have been a culprit for case 3 or 4 in other circumstances).
> 
> Alexander's death portrait: https://imgur.com/a/JmETFRe


	15. Robotics, Torture, and Microwaves

She must have fallen asleep at some point. When she woke up, she was completely alone in the trial room. Everyone else had left. She found the strength to get up, and walked toward the elevator. When the doors opened, she found herself once more in the empty square room – except this time, it wasn’t exactly empty. A huge pile of miscellaneous objects had been dumped next to the elevator. Julie was staring at it thoughtfully, and Typhaine was picking things up here and there.

“Oh hey Lisa,” Julie said without looking at her. “How are you.”

“Bad.”

“Nice. Monoblade said we couldn’t go back into the train, but he gathered all our things and dropped them here.”

“Oh yeah, I see Damoclès.”

“Hm?”

“My bike. I named it that.”

“Neat.”

The conversation ended. Lisa knew that at some point she’d have to look inside this mess, but she didn’t really want to do it yet.

“Hey, Lisa?”

Typhaine’s voice. She was oddly quiet, compared to the usual.

“Yeah?”

“You were amazing out there,” she said, pointing to the floor with her index finger. “Without your help, we might not have survived. Thank you.”

Lisa nodded.

“I’ll feel proud on another day I think. But you’re welcome.”

Lisa tried to open the door to the east wall. It led to a narrow corridor, with doors on the left and right. Everything was white, and very clean. The rooms had numbers: 101, 102, 103, 104. She decided to open 101, and found Magalie and Ferdinand sitting on a bed.

“Hi guys,” she said.

“Oh hey Lisa. Came to investigate our new quarters?”

Lisa looked around.

“What even _is_ this place?”

“It looks like a hospital of some sort. All the rooms are the same. Since there are only four of them with two beds in each, we’ll be a little crowded, but...”

Lisa shrugged.

“Doesn’t matter much. I assume you two are staying together?”

“We are, with Jean and Typhaine.”

Lisa took a look around. Two twin-sized beds (on wheels), a TV screen, a desk, a chair, a large spotless window, some flower paintings on the walls. Everything was white.

“Doesn’t this room feel… odd to you guys?” Lisa asked.

“What do you mean?” Ferdinand asked. “It’s an ordinary hospital room.”

“Aside from the fact that it shouldn’t exist at all you mean?” Magalie asked.

“Aside from that, yeah. It feels like… something’s missing. Like this room wasn’t just built to be a hospital room, and that something was removed before we came here.”

“How do you figure?”

Lisa wondered. Was it just a hunch, or…? She went to look at the desk, then crouched and look at the wall underneath it.

“There’s too many plugs, for one thing,” she explained. “There’s like ten of them in just one room, but the only thing that’s actually plugged in is that TV screen. There must have been a big machine here before, or a bunch of computers.”

“It makes sense that the mastermind wouldn’t want us to touch those,” Magalie agreed.

Ferdinand whistled.

“You are indeed sharp, Lisa! Consider me impressed!”

That made her smile, just a little.

“I’ll explore the rest now. Seeya guys.”

She waved, and left the room.

Back in the corridor, she counted the doors. Four of them, four rooms. Still, there was a fifth door at the back of the hallway. Above it, a little sign read “water room”. Not knowing what to expect, Lisa opened it.

It was a very strange place. It looked like a pool, but not quite. As if someone had wanted to build a pool, but without the fun of pools. It was quite large, the water was completely devoid of color, and there was no tiling at the bottom or on the walls. Some huge light stands lit the room, they sorta looked like street lights. Rebecca was sitting next to the basin.

“I’m really itching to take a swim,” she explained. “But I’m not sure if I should. This place is just… so weird.”

“Yeah, I’m kinda confused,” Lisa admitted. “It looks… unfinished? Did you ask Monoblade if it was safe?”

“Monoblade said it was. There are some showers in the back, too,” (she pointed to the area with her finger), “and some toilets on the other side. Which is good, considering we’re not allowed to go back in the train.”

“Why is that, though?”

“Absolutely no idea.”

Lisa put her hand in the water. It was cold, but didn’t seem dangerous.

“I think you’re fine, but maybe ask Aphrodite about it.”

“Aphrodite doesn’t know everything,” Rebecca replied.

“Sure, but you can try anyway.”

Thinking there wasn’t much else in this room, Lisa left Rebecca and went back into the elevator room. She had two more doors to open: north door and west door. There should have been a south door (leading to the train), but it had been closed off for some reason. Lisa decided to open north door.

She found a bunch of offices, four of them in fact. Work rooms with desks, computers (turned off, and there didn’t seem to be any power), papers, pencils, drawers, and a whole lot of books. Lisa picked one up at random, and opened it. It seemed to be a very detailed and complex thesis on the subject of robotics, and how AI’s ‘minds’ worked. Not uninteresting as a hole, but clearly intended for an erudite readership, which Lisa was not.

Once again, there was a different door at the end of the hallway. Lisa opened it, not knowing what to expect, and found herself-

“Outside?”

She was so shocked that she didn’t know what to say. There was the sky, the sun, the wind and the ever-flying dust, and _what the fuck was going on?_

“Oh, hey,” Aphrodite said. “Nobody warned you about this door?”

“I’m so confused. How are you being so calm? Wait, for how long have you been out?”

“About thirty minutes, I’d say,” Aphrodite said calmly. “And I’m not dead!”

“That’s good news. But what the hell? We’re still in Lorient, right? Is there some kind of… air purifier around, or something?”

“It’s a possibility, but I actually don’t think so,” Aphrodite said. “I think Lorient’s air is fine actually.”

“Huh? What?”

“Consider that Alexander and Sébastien’s executions took place outside, too. Sébastien’s was rather quick, but Alexander’s definitely exceeded ten minutes.”

“You could tell?”

“I made sure to. I wanted to know. According to the well-known facts about this ghost town, anyone who would be standing outside without a gas mask would die in less than ten minutes. Alexander survived for longer than ten minutes: ergo, we have been lied to.”

“But… but...”

Lisa was looking for the right words.

“We’re talking about government conspiracy theories here! I mean, everyone knows there was a war, and that some new types of bio weapons were used, and that’s why the air is toxic even to this day. Sure, the common people don’t really understand the specifics, but… some scientists studied this town! Recently too! Are you saying they’re all lying to us?”

“All I’m saying is that I’ve been breathing this air for more than thirty minutes, and as you can see I’m fine. You’re fine too.”

“I don’t _feel_ fine,” Lisa protested.

“I can give you a pat on the back,” Aphrodite replied. “If that makes you feel better.”

“Please do.”

She frowned.

“Wait, but does that mean we can get out?”

“Let me show you,” Aphrodite said.

She grabbed Lisa’s hand, and walked toward the east. They were in what looked like an abandoned parking lot. There were even a few cars. Dusty and broken, but cars nonetheless.

“Can you see it?” Aphrodite said, pointing to a huge black fence some twenty meters away.

“Oh, I can. Geez, that thing is high up, I don’t think any of us could climb it.”

“Rebecca might,” Aphrodite said. “But it’s probably against the rules. Also I went to check from closer, and there are some gatling guns positioned everywhere, so. It doesn’t look like we’re escaping any time soon.”

 _We could always dig a tunnel_ , Lisa pondered, not daring to say it out loud.

The parking lot led to the ruins of a restaurant called _Le Crabe Marteau_. The door had been ripped out, there were several cracks on the ceiling, but apart from that it was in reasonably good shape.

“There’s a kitchen back there,” Aphrodite said, pointing behind the bar counter. “With fresh food, oddly enough. It looks like it has been restored quite recently.”

“How sweet of our kidnappers,” Lisa commented.

“We can’t access the second floor though,” Aphrodite commented. “There’s a huge pile of rubber blocking off the staircase.”

“Too bad,” Lisa said. “But at least we have some food. I kinda got worried when Rebecca told me that we couldn’t go into the train anymore.”

“Yeah, me too. If we had all been too scared to walk outside, we might have starved.”

“Good thing you’re here to be thoughtfully brave then!”

Lisa sat at one of the tables, and tapped it with her fingers for a bit. It felt so weird, being outside all of a sudden. Feeling the wind, seeing the clouds.

“Oh, I just realized,” she said. “The parking lot is quite big. I can go cycle in here!”

“Indeed you can.”

“Ooooh, this is great news! Wonderful too! I thought I could go cycle in circles down in that gloomy trial room, but I have this whole place to cycle in! I can even cycle on the cars if I want, and show Ryo and Bob some cool tricks!”

“Neat,” Aphrodite said, smiling. “I’m eager to see those as well.”

On their way back, Lisa took a moment to inspect the exterior of the edifice. It was undoubtedly very recent in construction. Very clean too, but mostly _very tall._

“That thing is huge, woah.”

“True. But similar to the restaurant, we can’t access the upper floors.”

“Why’s that? More rubble?”

“No, I actually didn’t find a staircase, and the elevator only goes down. But there’s a locked door on the western wing, so maybe that’s the one that leads to the upper floors.”

Aphrodite said she had more things to check out outside, so Lisa waved her goodbye before opening the door. She found Jean standing in the middle of the hallway, looking positively spooked.

“Oh my God Lisa are you okay?” He asked, eyes wide in fear.

“Huh? Oh yeah, I’m good. The air is pure, so it’s fine.”

Jean blinked, put both hands on his cheeks, and yelled _“whaaaaat”_ in a comical fashion. Lisa giggled, just a bit. She was starting to feel somewhat better.

“But wait, the implications of this… this, this is huge!” He yelled.

Lisa had never noticed before, but his hair was incredibly messy. He looked a little like a hedgehog, in a way. Or the lead singer from a punk band, perhaps.

“I know, this is a little crazy. I feel like we should tell Julie when we see her.”

“Yeah no kidding!” Jean replied. “We should tell everyone!”

He came with her as she inspected the west wing. Unsurprisingly, a narrow corridor led to five new doors.

“Oh, this one’s a little creepy”, Jean warned. “Watch out for your nerves.”

Lisa wondered what he meant. She opened a door on the right (entitled robotics lab n°1), and found some sort of operating table. There were quite a lot of tools hanging from the wall. Well, they looked a little like weapons in a way. On a bookshelf was a wide array of little bottles, but the labels were in German, and Lisa had taken Spanish in middle school.

“Any idea what’s in those?”

“Suzie managed to translate a few of the labels. There’s some poisons in there apparently, but also a bunch of common medicines, and some hard drugs. Probably some antidotes too, but it’s hard to tell which is which.”

“Great,” Lisa said. “Just wonderful. The kidnappers provided us with a large array of weapons, a bunch of poisons, all delicately gift-wrapped in some sort of torture room.”

“It really feels like a torture room, doesn’t it?” Jean said, shivering. “There’s sorta no other way to look at it. But why would it be here? This just doesn’t make sense.”

“There has to be a reason!” Lisa said energetically. “We’ll discuss it all together with Julie later.”

“Sure.”

The remaining rooms were labeled as “science labs”, and looked like science labs. At the entrance, Lisa found a large wardrobe with a bunch of white lab coats, plastic gloves and surgical masks. Several blue tables were lined up in the middle, complete with a sink and a tap.

“Actually, this looks like those chem classrooms from high school, don’t you think?” Lisa asked.

“Kinda, yeah. Except some of the equipment is just weird. Look here.”

He opened a small cupboard which Lisa hadn’t noticed. Inside were various tools which looked like…

“What the heck are those?” Lisa asked.

“No clue. It’s kinda like robot parts in a way? I can’t even say what they’re made of. Metal? Plastic? A mixture of both? I have no idea.”

“Uh… stuff. Too bad we don’t have any science ultimates to help us with that one.”

“Well, they would just die,” Jean said.

Lisa blinked.

“Jean, that was unexpectedly dark.”

“Sorry, I dunno what came over me.”

They left the lab, and Lisa tried to open the last door, but it was locked.

“I guess this is as far as we’re allowed to go then,” she pondered. “It’s a lot more space than in the train, so I’m not complaining.”

“Yeah no kidding.”

His belly rumbled.

“Still, how do you think we’re going to get food?” He asked, sounding worried.

Lisa told him about the ruins of the restaurant outside, and they went together. She fished some frozen food from the freezer, and put it in the microwave. They then sat at one of the tables, and ate.

“God I was so hungry,” Jean said. “I don’t care if the air destroys my lungs, I needed this. Badly.”

“It still makes you nervous though,” Lisa commented.

“Uh… yeah it does. Shouldn’t it? I mean...” (He finished his bite and made a large gesture, showing his surroundings) “this town is supposed to be a death trap to all humans. Even if it _seems_ fine for now-”

“I guess I just don’t have enough energy to worry at the moment,” Lisa said. “With all this killing game stuff. It’s wrecking my brain a bit.”

“Not enough energy to worry? God, I wish,” he said with a chuckle. “I worry all the time. I’m practically a professional.”

A moment of silence.

“Hey Jean?” She asked. “When we get out, what’s the first thing you’ll do?”

He pondered for a moment.

“It’s going to sound weird, but... I’ve really missed my garden, lately. I have a pretty big one back at my dad’s place, with a bunch of tall trees. I’d like to go there, stroll a bit, water the plants, trim the branches, say hello to my cat… I feel weird in this deserted place.”

“You don’t have some people to see?”

“Sure, I do. My dad’s probably super worried, and it’ll be a crazy when I tell my pals what I’ve been through. But right now I just want to see my garden.”

He looked a little awkward as he cast Lisa a quick glance.

“I know it’s weird. I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay, we’re all weirdos here. I got like, 7 bicycles at home, and I’ve named them all. You’re fine, Jean.”

She smiled, and took a bite of her own food. It tasted like absolute nothingness.

“Still, that place isn’t completely barren,” she said. “I know it’s not much, but I saw some grass in the parking lot. And Julie told me she saw a few birds flying recently.”

“Really? That’s… oh, I wish I could have seen that,” Jean said softly.

 _He really must like nature quite a lot,_ Lisa thought.

Jean was looking at the horizon with a sort of dreamy look, perhaps hoping to see a bird himself. Then both of their monopads buzzed at the same time. Jean jumped.

“What the heck?” He said, turning it on. “Oh, it’s just a text from Julie.”

“What does she say?”

“She says we all have to come to the science lab n°1, because we have a bunch of stuff to discuss.”

“Geez, she doesn’t waste any time,” Lisa sighed. “I guess we should go.”


	16. Emergency Meeting

The science lab was a bit of a strange place for a meeting – but at least there were stools, so that was a major improvement compared to the dining car. It was currently 3pm, and it had begun to rain outside.

Julie was standing in front of the white board, tapping the pen in the palm of her hand.

“Thank you for coming, everyone.”

“Everyone?” Aphrodite asked, sharp as always. “What about Florian and Jordana?”

“Florian has locked himself in one of the hospital rooms and refuses to get out,” Julie explained. “As for Jordana, Monoblade took her. She’s supposedly at the place where Ryoji is getting his tongue surgery.”

“Wait,” Jean said. “Does that mean Monoblade isn’t currently monitoring us?”

“Uh...”

“It’s actually pretty simple to check,” Lisa said. “Hey Monoblade? We got a question for you.”

Nothing happened.

“Huh,” Magalie commented.

“Oh wow!” Jean said. “Does that mean we should, like… try to escape while he isn’t looking?”

“I doubt he’s the only one in charge of monitoring us,” Aphrodite said with a shrug.

“So what compelled you to gather us here?” Bertrand asked.

He was stroking his chin pensively. Lisa didn’t know what he had been doing before coming into this room, but he had managed to spray some paint all over his clothes again.

_There’s one guy who could benefit from the lab suits, certainly._

“I wanted to discuss a few things,” Julie started. “I know the trial from this morning was definitely a big shock for all of us, and if it hadn’t been for our safety, I would’ve postponed this meeting.”

“But you want our opinion,” Aphrodite said. “Because Jordana is clearly dangerous, and Florian is clearly unstable, and you wonder how we should deal with them.”

Julie blinked.

“Yes, that’s about right. Jordana is currently not here, but we’ll have to worry about her sooner or later. And Florian… you all saw how he acted during the trial. If it hadn’t been for Lisa and Aphrodite, we could have all died.”

Lisa raised her hand.

“Can I say something?”

“Sure.”

“I think Florian was just very distressed by Roberta’s death. They seemed to be close, after all. He was sad, he felt lost and angry, and that’s probably why he freaked out on us like this. Not that I’m saying we should forgive him so easily, but that’s probably something we can just sort out by talking with him, when he’s ready.”

“Also, that is something we should come to expect in the future,” Lucien added. “Troubled minds oft become unstable, and this predicament we find ourselves in produces a great deal of instability.”

“So you think that we should eventually forgive Florian, and talk things out with him, got it,” Julie said, writing it on the board. “Who’s in favor?”

Magalie and Jean were the only ones who didn’t raise their hands. Julie wrote down ‘approved’ under Lisa’s idea on the white board.

“Good, that’s sorted out at least. But then what about Jordana?”

“It should be the same thing, surely?” Bertrand said, looking at the others.

“Uh...” Jean said.

“That’s going to be difficult, isn’t it?” Typhaine asked.

“For one thing, I’d like to figure out what the hell happened to her,” Magalie said, arms crossed.

“Florian, he was just mad after Roberta died,” Bob said. “But Jordie, it’s like she was mad way before even coming here, and she just felt like showing her true side this mornin’.”

“So… what should we do?” Julie asked.

“Ask her to explain herself first,” Aphrodite said. “And if she refuses to cooperate, we’ll have to keep an eye on her. I know I may sound heartless, but she’s dangerous. She purposefully manipulated Alexander into committing murder, after all.”

“Hm,” Julie said. “Yeah, I feel like you’re right.”

“I cannot agree,” Bertrand said, forcefully. “The kidnappers want us to turn on each other. By doing that, we will only be pleasing them.”

“What are you suggesting?” Jean said. “You think you can reason with that chick?”

“I cannot so easily forgive her foul deeds, friend,” Ferdinand said solemnly.

“Jordana is only human,” Bertrand countered. “We are all scared, perhaps her more than any of us. She attempted to shield her emotions, in order to maintain a _façade_ of confidence, but she must have been hurting. Right as we speak, I do not doubt that she feels great guilt from what she did to Alexander, and to all of us.”

“And so what?” Jean replied. “If we appear weak in front of her, what do you think she’ll do?”

“If we cast her aside, we will only confirm her misguided ideas,” Bertrand said, getting up from his chair. “Can you not see it? She is _afraid_. Now is the time to lend her our hand, so that she may begin to trust us, before it is too late.”

“Bertand, dude, I’m not putting myself in danger for her,” Jean replied, getting up as well. “It’s just not happening, so give up your big talk and get out.”

Bertrand appeared to be shocked. Everyone else was. Then Ferdinand got up and said something too, and then Rebecca spoke, and Bob tried to add something, and the room erupted into chaos. Eventually Bertrand just left, and the room became calm once more.

“Okay,” Julie said. “Bit of a tough issue then. Let’s just say we’ll take a decision later.”

“Can we go then?” Jean asked.

“Just one last thing: Suzie and I checked, all the rooms in this facility have locks. I strongly suggest that we ban anyone from entering the torture rooms, for everyone’s safety.”

“But what about the medicine in there?” Typhaine countered. “What if we need it?”

“Julie and I will be keeping a key each,” Suzie explained. “If someone needs medicine, just come for us, and we’ll open the door for you.”

“But that’s the only exception: other than that, no one can enter the torture rooms, got it?” Julie asked, rather forcefully.

No one had any objections, so they all agreed, and then left the room.

**

Lisa flopped on one of the beds in room 104. Apparently this was the room she would be sharing with Bob, Ryoji and Rebecca. Maybe more people than that, considering Florian was still selfishly hoarding room 103 all for himself.

Lisa was staring at the ceiling. She felt uncharacteristically unmotivated. She was thinking about Ryoji. Was he really going to come back? What kind of surgery were they going to perform on him? Where?

Then it struck her. With the monopad’s texting feature, she could directly ask him. Jumping from her bed, she took the monopad from her pocket, and started typing quickly.

[lisa] RYO!! i’m like, super worried about you, are you okay? where are you rn? me and bob send lotsa hugs your way, come back to us in one piece!

She waited for a moment, but no reply came. So she sat back on her bed, and waited for the day to pass.


	17. Flowers, Surgery, and Lizards

How long had it been since the killing game had started? Lisa was unsure. A week, maybe. She felt like it had been a full week of this killing game, but maybe it was more than that. Three people had died. Yes, they were dead, and they were never coming back. Sébastien, Roberta, Alexander, those were their names. Right now she was in hospital room 104, sleeping in the same bed as Rebecca. Ryoji and Bob were sharing the second bed, and Jean was sleeping in a mess of blankets on the floor.

Lisa was barely conscious of her own body. Everything around her was white: the ceiling, the walls, the bed sheets, even the furniture. What was she supposed to do? How was she supposed to start this day?

_Taking a shower would be a nice start._

Indeed, it would be, so she quickly got out of bed, and left the room. The hallway was rather cold, for some reason. The showers were cold, too. Everything was cold, or maybe she was just getting sick.

She had to get dressed eventually, so after wandering a bit in a towel, she looked through the pile of mess in the elevator room, and managed to find some clean clothes (which probably belonged to Rebecca).

_A laundry day is going to be in order soon. Too bad this facility is not equipped with washing machines._

Next was breakfast, so after committing a horrible theft on Rebecca’s belongings, Lisa walked outside. She was about to go straight to the restaurant, but she noticed someone. They were on their knees, very close to the western fence. What were they doing?

Lisa walked closer to them, surprised to find Florian. He was holding a little glass of water, and pouring it on the mud in front of him.

“What are you doing?” Lisa asked.

He looked weak and tired. It seemed like he hadn’t had a change of clothes in two days, and hadn’t had the chance to eat or drink anything in a while either.

“There’s a flower here,” he said quietly, as if talking to himself. “I didn’t want it to feel lonely, so I brought some friends.”

“You planted some seeds?”

“I did. I don’t know if they will have enough nutrients to grow healthily, because I haven’t had any opportunity to analyze the soils, so I figured I would just try with various samples, and see what works. If we’re lucky, we’ll have a little garden in here. It won’t be big, but it’ll be something.”

He sounded very sad. Lisa wondered if it was Roberta’s death that hit him so hard, or if there was something else to it.

“Flo, your knees are trembling,” she said. “Come with me and we’ll have breakfast, ‘kay?”

“I want to stay here, for now, if that’s all right.”

“I’ll bring you some food then. But you’d better eat the whole thing, and no complaining! I’m doing this ‘cause you’re mourning, but I won’t babysit you forever, got it?”

He nodded, and Lisa left. Unsurprisingly, Aphrodite was already awake, and was frying some eggs by the stove.

“Julie said it was my turn to make breakfast, so I’m making eggs, beans and toast.”

“Isn’t that a bit heavy for breakfast?”

“It is. I’m hungry.”

“That’s fair.”

Lisa sat on a chair, and waited for Aphrodite to finish. They stood there in silent for five solid minutes.

“Can I tell you something?” Aphrodite asked. “I would like you not to tell anyone after that.”

Lisa raised an eyebrow (because yes, that was something she could do, and she was very proud of it).

“Sure, lay it down on me. I love secrets.”

“You’re not going to like this one. It’s about Roberta, and the yellow scarf.”

“Oh boy. You know why she took it.”

“I think she was planning to murder me.”

“Yikes. How did you figure out?”

“She wrote me a little note,” Aphrodite explained. “She asked if I could meet her in the girls’ bathroom at 4am, on the day of the murder. Naturally, I didn’t go, but she did.”

“Oh, right, I kinda wondered why Alexander found her there. But for all you know she really just wanted to talk?”

“But why at night time, then? The train might have been a little crowded, but we could have easily found an empty space during the day, if she simply wanted to talk.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty suspicious I’ll admit. But we’ll never really know.”

“Indeed. I just wanted to get this off my chest, so… thank you Lisa.”

“No problem.”

Lisa got up from her chair, and kissed Aphrodite on the cheek. The other girl frowned, which was probably how she expressed ‘complete and utter bewilderment’.

“Why did you do that?”

“Hm? Oh, just because I like you.”

She grabbed a plate of beans and a little bottle of orange juice, and went to bring it to Florian. He barely looked at her when, but grabbed the plate anyway and began to eat very very fast, which hinted at how hungry he had been all this time. Since he didn’t look ready to thank her yet, she went back to the restaurant, where most of her other classmates had already gathered.

“We’ll have to sort out all the mess from the elevator room soon enough,” Julie was saying while Suzie drank some tea. “It’s going to be long, and we’ll have to figure out what to make of the deceased's belongings… oh god, should we make a new memorial? Or maybe gather it somewhere for their families?”

Suzie drank more tea.

“Okay, I get it,” Julie sighed. “You’re not a morning person.”

“Indeed, I’m not,” Suzie replied. “You want some of this tea? It’s delicious.”

Lisa sat between Jean and Magalie, shoving an absurd amount of food onto her plate.

“So what are we talking about, gang?”

She was already feeling much better, now that she was among her pals. It was as if she had been acting on auto pilot the whole morning, and was finally regaining control of herself.

“Oh, we were talking about superpowers,” Jean explained, smiling.

He was wearing golden earrings, quite large too. Lisa thought it suited him.

“Super powers? I want the power to smash through walls then,” Lisa said, grinning. “Or it has already been taken? Because I also like explosions, so if I can have explosion powers I’m also cool with it.”

“Basically you like to break things,” Magalie said.

“I do! Breaking things is fun! You know there’s a videogame called _Where’s my Hammer_ , or something like that, where all you have to do is smash some stuff with a big hammer? Like, I think it’s wonderful that this _exists_. I gotta buy it one day.”

“Me too,” Jean said. “Sounds like a great stress reliever.”

“Back to the topic of super powers,” Ferdinand began, “I would like to have…” (dramatic pause) “the power of justice!”

“But you already have it, Ferd,” Lisa replied with a giggle.

Somehow that made him blush.

“What about you, Mag?” Jean asked. “What powers does a historian want?”

“It’s kinda boring, but I’d like some healing powers,” Magalie said, sounding a little distant. “I always play the supporting role in RPGs.”

“That’s not boring at all, what the hell,” Lisa said. “Glory to the healers! We could do nothing without them!”

“Truly, what a beautiful wish,” Ferdinand agreed, nodding fervently. “It would almost bring me to tears, were I not so manly.”

Lisa burst out laughing, nearly spitting out milk through her nose.

“And what about you Typhaine?” Jean asked, patting Lisa on the back. “You have some idea?”

“I want to go in space!” Typhaine squeaked, stars in her eyes. “I want to go to space, meet some aliens, and become friends with them!”

“Hehe, that’s nice.”

“Say Jean, you haven’t told us yours,” Magalie said.

“Oh, uh… mine’s obvious, right? I’d like to be able to magically grow plants. I feel kinda lost when I’m not in a garden, and besides it’d be good for the planet.”

“And the food resources,” Typhaine agreed, nodding in agreement.

“To be fair,” Lisa said. “This ghost town would look way cooler if it was also a forest.”

“Oh right,” Magalie said. “Imagine the buildings but like… covered in vines. All green and fluffy. It’d be far less depressing.”

“Nature as it should be,” Ferdinand agreed, nodding gravely.

“Ah, that’s the dream right there,” Jean said dreamily.

“It might be closer than we think, though,” Lisa said. “There’s grass in the parking lot, so who knows? Maybe in a few years this place will really become a forest. With animals and stuff.”

“How cool that would be,” Jean said. “I hope I survive to witness it one day.”

They each nodded in agreement.

**

Rebecca hadn’t come to have breakfast with the others. She had submitted to the temptation, and dived head first into the basin in the eastern wing. Perhaps it was some kind of trap, and there was poison in the water or something, but she didn’t care. She was the ultimate swimmer after all, how could she even resist?

Sure, she was used to swimming in the sea, rolling through the salty waves, to see fish, seaweeds, crabs and boats and surfboards, and… this was just a square basin, which wasn’t even that deep to begin with. But it was water, and Rebecca always felt more comfortable in the water. Her grandma used to say that she was part fish, and Rebecca had refused to eat any kind of fish since then.

At some point Bertrand entered the room. He looked at her curiously, tipping his hat politely. She waved in return.

“Isn’t the water cold?” He asked.

“It is, but I don’t mind. You’re off to take a shower?”

“Yes, indeed.”

He looked a little nervous, somehow. His fingers were trembling.

“You okay there?” She asked, leaning to the edge of the basin.

“Yes, quite right,” he said, coughing a bit. “I’m just a little cold.”

Rebecca nodded, and left him to it.

Roughly two hours later, Rebecca was still in the bath. She had gotten completely lost in thoughts, when she saw Julie and Suzie entering the room. Julie was holding an enormous pile of clothes, so big that it covered her face completely (Rebecca only managed to recognize her thanks to her black boots). Suzie was carrying a bunch of cleaning tools.

“Hey girls,” Rebecca said, waving once more. “You come to do the laundry?”

“We are,” Suzie said, nodding. “We’ll need the basin for that. Basically we’re going to make this a giant soap soup.”

“Don’t you need hot water to clean clothes though?” Rebecca asked.

“Beggars can’t be choosers,” Suzie replied with a shrug. “We figured it’d be better than nothing.”

“I’ll help then!” Rebecca said, coming out of the water gracefully.

“Of course you’ll help,” Julie said, dropping her pile on the floor. “We’re not maids, we’re only cleaning our own clothes. The others should arrive soon. Well, except for Bob, who’s probably still sleeping, but he barely owns any clothes anyway.”

“True, he just borrows Ryoji’s,” Rebecca agreed.

Once everyone had gathered for the big laundry event, Rebecca noticed that Bertrand was missing. She wondered if something had happened to him.

**

Aphrodite was on her own, in the elevator room. She had brought a pair of scissors and a sewing kit from her belongings, and was currently chopping off the Monoblade-brand clothes, for no apparent reason. When Bob finally woke up and ended up wandering inside the elevator room, he stopped to look at what she was doing.

“Hey girl,” He eventually said.

“Yes, I did notice you,” she replied. “If you have a question, you may ask me anything.”

“Sure, uh… watchu doin’?”

“I’m making a costume,” she explained, holding the ruined t-shirt for him to see.

She had cut some little square holes in the t-shirt, for whatever reason. She was smiling, which was a rare sight.

“Oh, I see! Kinda forgot tha’s your talent,” Bob admitted, adjusting his beanie. “Mind if I stay and watch you do it?”

“No problem. Take a cushion, it’s more comfortable.”

“Cushion…?”

“From the train seats. Monoblade made a pile over here. He must have thought they would come in handy.”

“Huh. Thoughtful bear, that one.”

Bob went to grab a cushion, and sat in front of Aphrodite.

“What kind of costume will that be?”

“Arlequin. It’s a classic, but I’m not in the mood for something too complicated, especially with these limited materials.”

“I see.”

He scratched his beard, then adjusted his beanie again. He seemed a little restless.

“Something else you want to ask me?” Aphrodite asked.

“Yeah, kinda. See, this whole trial business, it was downright awful. I’ve had a big nightmare just now, and I’m still shaking a lil’ from it.”

“Oh, I see,” Aphrodite said. “Do you want a hug?”

“Wouldn’ mind, but tha’s not the point,” he replied. “’s just… how do we make sure it doesn’t happen again? I believed I could trust everyone, but what Alexander did… came out of nowhere, man. I got no idea he was like that on the inside. Creeps me out a lot, t’be honest.”

“I see. You’re afraid you’ll get betrayed again?”

“Tha’s it, yeah. Poor Bob doesn’t know who to trust no more.”

“It’s quite the predicament, isn’t it?” Aphrodite said.

“So like, you’re pretty bright, right Dite? Y’always seem to have the answers for everythin’. So like… what d’you reckon we should do?”

Aphrodite stopped working for a second, and looked at the ceiling, tapping her nose with her finger. She was wearing some strange orange uniform, which made her look a lot like a prisoner. What a weird gal she was.

“I suppose the best way to avoid any new murders would be to make sure we know each other quite well. There is no murder without a motive, after all. Murderers are usually people who have suffered a lot throughout their lives, who have lost hope.”

“So yer sayin’ that if we know each other better, we can help the people who’re suffering, so they dun’t do anythin’ stupid?”

“That would be it, yes. But in order for that to work, we need to be able to trust each other more: and that requires that we develop a strong bond.”

“So in short, I can help everyone simply by being a good buddy?”

“Yep. That’s the first step, anyway.”

“Oh wow, never knew it’d be that easy.”

“It’s not easy, actually,” Aphrodite said. “Killing games don’t encourage friendship all that much. Being kind to everyone might get you in trouble.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Bob admitted. “Man, these kidnappers are really a bunch of bastards. I wish I could-”

“I’m done!” Aphrodite suddenly said, smiling once more as she showed Bob her work. “What do you think?”

Bob blinked.

“What whut? But you had barely begun just five minutes ago, and now you’ve made sumthin’ that can be bought at a store?”

“It’s nothing like that,” Aphrodite said (looking rather pleased). “After all, I had to work with inadequate materials, so I couldn’t do much. But I’m glad you like it. I’ll have to make plenty more costumes, and pretty soon too.”

“What for?”

“I want to organize a costume party,” Aphrodite replied. “I think it would be a good way for everyone to relax for a bit, and forget about all the issues we’re facing. I hope Julie approves the idea.”

“She’d better,” Bob said, lying down on his cushion. “Else I’ll give her a piece o’ my mind.”

**

When evening came, Lisa flopped on her bed. She was alone in the room for the time being, and appreciated a moment of silence. When her monopad beeped, she almost jumped. Turning the screen on, she realized she had a new text from Ryoji.

[ryoji] Hello Lisa, thank you for your concern. I’m all right, the surgeons have just finished operating me. I was asleep the whole day, which is why I couldn’t reply to you. Thousand apologies! T_T But yeah, I can talk again now! My tongue feels a bit weird, and I think my voice has changed a little, but I can talk!! Monoblade says I’ll see you again tomorrow. I can’t wait!

[ryoji] By the way, Jordana is fine too. She says hi.

The first text brought a big smile on Lisa’s face, the second puzzled her a little. Why would Jordana say hello like this, as if nothing had happened? What a weird girl.

When Bob entered the room, Lisa announced the big news, and they began to dance together. Eventually Rebecca joined them, and sang to accompany the dance. It was a pure moment that didn’t last very long, but was appreciated by all.

The next morning, a helicopter landed in the parking lot. Monoblade came out, soon followed by Ryoji and Jordana, both wearing the strange prison-like uniforms. Ryoji ran to hug his friends, nearly making them fall as he did so. Jordana remained close to the helicopter, hands politely tucked behind her back, smiling.

“I brought you your bastards back in one piece, aren’t you proud of me?” Monoblade yelled, apparently very happy with himself.

“Thanks for Ryoji, but you could have kept Jordana, y’know,” Jean said with a smirk. “We don’t need her.”

“Oh my, Jean has really gained confidence in these last few days,” Jordana commented, placing a hand in front of her mouth. “Maybe a little too much confidence though. I hope eventually he realizes that everyone was much happier before, when he knew when to keep his mouth shut.”

“Eeh?” Jean asked. “That was totally uncool!”

“Don’t listen to her,” Bob said, still hugging Ryoji and Lisa. “She’s just doin’ that cuz she knows it can hurt you.”

Bertrand walked toward monoblade, and crouched so he could be at his level.

“I wrote a little letter for the surgeons and doctors that operated on our friends,” he said. “However I have no way of communicating them my gratitude. Would you mind delivering it for me?”

“Eh?” Monoblade said. “You realize those surgeons are working for me, right? They’re okay with the whole killing game thing. You sure you want to thank them?”

“Of course I do.”

“Then I’ll take your letter, fine. I’m sure they’ll have a good laugh when they read it.”

Monoblade then left. Lisa would have liked to jump onto the helicopter, and let it take her away from her prison, but there were armed soldiers inside, and she didn’t want to die. All in all, most of her classmates looked really happy to have Ryoji back. As for Jordana…

Julie was walking toward the singer, followed closely by Suzie (who didn’t look very enthusiastic about the prospect of a confrontation). When they were close enough, Julie stopped.

“Jordana.”

“Julie?”

“We had a conversation yesterday morning, and agreed that you are a danger to our group. Come with me and don’t try to resist.”

“Perish the thought, I would not want to cause any trouble,” Jordana said with a giggle.

They both walked toward the main building. Bertrand frowned as he watched them leave.

“What is she doing?” He asked, suddenly looking rather upset. “Where is she taking her?”

“Who cares?” Jean said. “She’s probably off to give her a sermon about unity or something. Chill dude.”

Bertrand didn’t reply. Lisa wondered what Julie was doing, too. But she was too happy to have Ryoji back to care all that much.

“Say, what is that weird uniform all about?” She asked, poking Ryoji’s chest.

“Uh, I think there’s a joke I don’t get,” Ryoji said. “When Monoblade first ordered me to change my clothes before the trial, he gave me some very plain ones as a replacement. But then he found this thing and immediately changed his mind, and insisted I put it on. I don’t dislike it, really, it’s just a little tight.”

Tight it was. Jordana’s outfit had been tight too, and it had been hard for Lisa to take her eyes away. In fact, Bob seemed to have the same struggle when he looked at Ryoji. Lisa grinned, though Ryoji didn’t seem to notice.

“Say, is it okay if we grab a bite?” He asked, placing a hand on his gut. “I couldn’t eat anything, because, well...” (he gestured to his tongue) “but I’m really, really starving now.”

“Of course!” Bob said. “Let’s all have breakfast t’gether, yeah? Go team!”

He ran toward the restaurant. Lisa giggled, and followed him. They made some potatoes (for breakfast? Really?) because they were such weird people, and had a great time.

Meanwhile, everyone sort of left the parking lot to do their own thing. But Bertrand was feeling a little restless, so he went back inside the main building, and opened the door to the western wing. Julie and Suzie were walking inside science lab n°2, carrying some blankets and a large cushion seat. Curious, he followed them inside. Jordana was seating on one of the stools, and waved at him politely.

“What are you two doing?” He asked, making Suzie jump.

“Hm?” Julie said. “Oh, it’s you. We’re making a room for Jordana.”

“A prison you mean?” Jordana asked. “I thought I wasn’t allowed to get out.”

“Indeed, you aren’t. We’re going to lock the door when we leave.”

“What… what is this?” Bertrand asked, feeling anger rise in his throat. “We never agreed to this!”

“And what do you want me to do?” Julie said. “She’s dangerous, she’s even admitted it herself.”

“It’s true,” Jordana said. “I’m a naughty girl.”

“I can’t just let her wander around as she pleases. This is meant to be a temporary situation, not a solution.”

“But this,” Bertrand said, pointing to the room, the blankets, and Jordana. “This is not… fine! I just cannot accept this situation! You cannot simply decide to lock someone up without consulting the others! Are you out of your mind?”

Julie was taken aback by the intensity of his complaint. Suzie however, looked unfazed.

“Hey Bertrand… why are you getting so worked up?”

“Huh?”

“I’ve never seen you so angry before. What is it? Calm down, we’ll talk this through.”

She took a step, extended her hand toward him. Bertrand was sweating a little.

_Look what you’ve done. Now they are going to be afraid of you, they will believe you are incapable of controlling your emotions. Dad would be so proud._

Bertrand was breathing a little heavily. He turned around suddenly and left the room, slamming the door behind himself. He bumped into Rebecca in the hallway.

“Oops, sorry dude.”

“No, it is my bad,” he said. “I apologize, I was not looking where I was going.”

“Oh, okay. Say, are you all right?” Rebecca asked, frowning. “If you’re sick, you should maybe rest in your room a bit. We can ask the others if they have any pain killers.”

Bertrand wondered for a bit why she was concerned, then realized his hands were still shaking a little. Mentally cursing himself, he placed them in his pockets.

“I appreciate your concern. I will… indeed, rest in my room for a little while. Thank you.”

He left the hallway, leaving Rebecca alone. She briefly wondered if she shouldn’t go after him, then dropped the issue.

**

“Hey Lucien. Do you think God is watching us right now?”

They were in the middle of the parking lot. Lucien had brought a little rug from his room and was kneeling onto it, making odd circle gestures with his hands, eyes closed. Typhaine was also on her knees, right in front of him.

“Perhaps you are unfamiliar with the concept,” he said slowly, “but God is omniscient. He does not need to watch us: he is all seeing, all knowing. We are his creation, there is no secret we can keep hidden from him.”

“Oh,” Typhaine said. “So… this killing game, do you think it’s his way to punish us for our sins?”

“It is very likely,” Lucien replied. “Though I aspire to be the best person I can be, even I cannot always escape sin. Such is life.”

He couldn’t see her (because his eyes were still closed), but he could picture Typhaine, tapping her fingers against her knees, biting her lip as she thought very intensely, then adjusting her cap.

“What can we do about it? If God is angry because of our mistakes, how can we make it right?”

Her voice was a little shaky, she sounded scared, though not particularly sad. Lucien knew the signs: she had something to confess, and it was not pretty.

“There is only one cure, and it is the confession of one’s sins,” Lucien replied in an equal tone. “That is the first step.”

“What is the second step?”

“Everything comes in due time, you will know once you have completed the first step. Now, Typhaine. Is there something you wish to tell me?”

Typhaine nodded, then remembering that Lucien had his eyes closed, she whispered:

“There is. But you can’t tell anyone.”

He nodded, slowly.

“You can trust me.”

**

“Say Ryo. Bob’s got ‘nuther question for ya, it tha’s okay.”

“Oh, uh… sure, what is it?”

They were both sitting on the same bed, in room 104. Ryoji was pressing his back against the wall, reading a book about lizards. Bob was lying down, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

“It’s yer hand again. I couldn’t help but notice. You lost ‘nother finger since you came back from surgery. Wha’s that all about?”

Before, it had only been Ryoji’s left hand missing its pinky. Now both of his hands did. He sighed.

“I don’t really understand what happened, honestly. They probably did it while I was unconscious? The way it happened, it’s like, I’m about to board the helicopter, see? But suddenly they tell me ‘wait, we got something to show you!’ And they shove this plastic box right under my nose, and there’s my pinky inside. They say ‘it’s to remember you by, in case you die’. And then they start laughing”

Bob’s nose wrinkled, he looked both upset and disgusted.

“These fuckin’ people, I really dun’ get them at all. Tha’s just messed up.”

“And downright impractical,” Lisa added from the other side of the room.

She was resting on the other bed, attempting (and failing) to braid Aphrodite’s hair.

“What do you mean?” Ryoji asked, curiously.

“What are they going to make of your pinky now?” Lisa asked. “Even assuming the joke was funny, which it really isn’t, it’s just super lame to keep a human finger around. What will they do when it rots, put it in the freezer? With all the food?”

“Uh,” Ryoji said. “That’s very weird to imagine. Opening the freezer, and then there’s just. My pinky in there. With the ice creams and pizzas. Just sitting there.”

“Yikes,” Bob commented.

“Did they take something from Jordana as well?” Aphrodite asked.

“One of her toes I believe,” Ryoji said. “She removed her shoe to show me, but I thought it was a little bit disgusting, so I looked away,” he admitted shamefully.

“What a weird gal, that one,” Bob said, shaking his head. “You hear the news? Julie actually locked her in one o’ the science labs.”

“Indeed, she did,” Aphrodite said. “I visited Jordana today, and she appeared to find the situation deeply amusing. ‘A prison within a prison, how original!’, she said.”

“Wow Aphrodite, you’re really good at imitating people,” Lisa commented, impressed. “For a while I thought Jordana was in the room with us.”

“I’ve been in many drama clubs,” Aphrodite replied.

“I just wish Jordana would trust us a little more,” Ryoji said, sounding pained. “I’d rather be her friend than her enemy.”

“Dun’ go near her if you can avoid it though,” Bob said. “Wouldn’ want you gettin’ hurt.”

“Hey Bob, were you always this protective?” Lisa asked, grinning.

“Huh? Maybe I was, dunno.”

Maybe he was blushing a little, or maybe it was just the dim light, Lisa wasn’t sure. At any rate, Ryoji didn’t notice anything.

“Wow, that’s insane, two species of lizards can have dreams!” Ryoji souted suddenly. “What could they possibly dream about, though?”

“Who can say?” Lisa asked. “Lizards are cowards. Maybe they dream that they’re running away from humans.”

“Or that they’re resting on a stonewall, bathing in the sunlight?” Aphrodite suggested.

“Or maybe they dream that, like, they’re flirtin’ with their buddy lizards” Bob added.

“Are you sure that’s not just you Bob?” Lisa asked, grinning.

Bob pouted, mumbled something incomprehensible, then went outside because he needed to take a little walk.


	18. Secrets, Jealousy and High Heels

The next morning, Lisa woke up extremely early. She had no idea why, but 5am rang, and she was already up and running. So she shot out from bed, careful not to wake Rebecca, then ran toward the restaurant. She didn’t meet anyone on her way, but found Suzie alone in the restaurant, making breakfast (which consisted in toasts and jam: probably the most normal breakfast since their arrival).

“Oh hi,” she said when she saw the other girl. “How is our favorite Suzie doing today?”

“Not so good,” Suzie replied. “I had a weird nightmare where I gave birth to a huge spider.”

“Ew,” Lisa commented, sitting down. “What do you think it could mean, though? Is the spider a symbol for something?”

“Uh. I didn’t exactly think about it.”

“Let’s see,” Lisa said. “Spiders are usually something people are afraid of, because they’re gross and scary with all their weird legs and stuff. But it came out of you, so does that mean you’re afraid of something within yourself?”

“It’s possible I guess,” Suzie said, looking somewhat uncomfortable. “I’m not sure if I want to know what this dream means, if it means anything at all.”

She sat across from Lisa, but avoided her gaze. Lisa tilted her head to one side.

“Something bothering you?”

“I’m not… great at small talk,” Suzie admitted.

“Oh, I see,” Lisa said. “Is that why you don’t speak much and tend to hide behind Julie all the time?”

Suzie looked a little exasperated.

“You know Lisa, you’re a little bit _too_ honest sometimes,” she said, coldly.

But Lisa only laughed.

“Yeah, I know. But it’s okay, y’know! It’s all right not to be comfortable around people, you can hide behind Julie all you want. Lucky you, she’s a good at attracting attention.”

“She really is good, isn’t she?” Suzie replied with a little smile. “I admire her a lot. The way she can confront people like it’s nothing, how seriously she takes everything she does...”

“It’s funny, I really didn’t take you for the shy type before,” Lisa said. “But yeah, Julie is a good leader I think. By the way, do you know what happened to Jordana?”

“Oh, uh… we locked her in science lab n°2. So she doesn’t attack or scare anyone, you know.”

“Wow. Brutal.”

“Yeah, a little. Bertrand got angry at us when we did. But Julie said it was the right thing to do, and I trust her judgement.”

“I see. So she’s not allowed to get out? But then how does she eat?”

“We bring her a plate every now and then. Actually, she should already be awake by now, I’ll bring her some toast.”

“I’ll come with you!” Lisa said, getting up right away.

Suzie didn’t seem enchanted by the idea, but nodded anyway. They piled up some toast on a plate, and walked out of the restaurant. When they opened the door to the western wing, they heard a voice. It was a beautiful melody, full of melancholy and sorrow. Lisa didn’t really understand the words, but it almost brought her to tears anyway. Suzie however, looked mostly unfazed.

“Jordana, we got your food,” she said as she knocked on the door.

“Welcome, my darlings,” Jordana said, opening the door as soon as Suzie unlocked it.

She was wearing a very fancy red dress and had put some flowers in her hair, as if she were expecting some guests for a _soirée_. Lisa had forgotten how beautiful she was.

“Hey Jordan,” she said casually. “How’s life in there?”

“Oh my, you wouldn’t guess, it’s utterly awful,” Jordana replied with a giggle. “How cruel this world is, trapping a poor soul such as myself in this somber cage.”

“You deserve what you got,” Suzie said coldly as she went to place the tray on one of the tables. “It’s too late to play the victim now.”

“Oh dear, Suzie, so you came too?” Jordana replied, feigning shock. “My, you are so elegantly plain, I must have confused you with a hospital wall.”

“That’s not funny,” Suzie said. “You really fill me with pity sometimes.”

“How do you keep busy Jordana?” Lisa asked, remaining casual.

“What can a lady do with her free time? If I had a piano I would learn how to play, if I had a sewing kit I would make a beautiful dress for my dear friend Suzie. But considering I have neither of those things, I pass the time by writing erotic fanfictions.”

“What?” Lisa asked, giggling a little. “Wow, okay. Didn’t see that coming.”

“I do pride myself for my writing skills, I do,” Jordana said, grabbing a pencil and pensively tapping her cheek with is. “I am currently working on a very smutty one, it’s a romantic affair between Julie and Suzie at a ranch-”

“What the fuck?” Suzie shouted. “What did you say?”

“Oh no, the haters have found me,” Jordana said, pretending to faint. “Whatever shall I do?”

“You- you’re not allowed to do that!” Suzie yelled, and she would have slapped Jordana if Lisa hadn’t caught her arm.

“Hm? I’m not?”

Jordana’s tone and demeanor went from honey and velvet to sword and winter chill in less than a second. She took a step toward Suzie, pointing an accusatory finger at her.

“So locking me up wasn’t enough, is that it? Now you also need to take my freedom of speech?”

“That’s not-”

“You don’t amuse me any longer. Go away.”

Suzie looked very angry. Lisa thought the whole masquerade had been a little stupid, so she left without regret. On their way back, Suzie didn’t utter a single word. She was stomping her feet a little stronger than was necessary.

“I’m not in love with Julie, you know,” she suddenly said when they reached the restaurant again. “Sure, she’s a very close friend and I admire her a lot, but that doesn’t mean I have to be in love with her. Jordana is just stupid.”

“She probably feels bored and lonely in that room, and she thought she’d rile you up for a little entertainment,” Lisa replied with a shrug. “I didn’t take it seriously.”

“No, I’m certainly not in love with Julie,” Suzie repeated as if Lisa hadn’t said anything. “Because Julie… kinda reminds me of my mom.”

And on that puzzling statement, she disappeared into the kitchen, leaving behind a very bewildered Lisa.

**

At some point, everyone had gathered for breakfast, except for Jordana who was still in her prison, Florian who was still avoiding people, and Bob who was still sleeping. The students were chatting with each other, enjoying a peaceful morning – which was probably why Monoblade thought it was the perfect time to crash onto the main table.

“Good morning to all my lovely students! Did you miss me?”

“Good morning Monoblade,” Bertrand said. “The rules of honesty compel me to admit that no, I did not miss you very much.”

“Wonderful! It’d be a little twisted if some of you started enjoying my presence, because-”

“Oh god, please just cut to the point already,” Magalie said, rolling her eyes. “We don’t have all day.”

“We do though,” Ferdinand said, before she slammed a toast in his face to make him shut up.

“Fine, fine,” Monoblade replied, sounding a little dejected. “If you insist. I figured out things would get boring pretty quick if you guys didn’t restart the murder business, so I thought of a new motive.”

“Please not a vote again!” Typhaine screamed, covering her eyes.

“Nah, it’d get boring if I used the same motive over and over like that. But like, this new one is not so bad, I think. It involves dirty secrets! Pfuhuhu!”

“Dirty secrets?” Jean asked. “Do we even have any?”

“Oh my sweet summer child, you have no idea.”

“Huh? Like, there’s some murderers among us or something?”

“Maybe, maybe, who knows?” Monoblade said. “Open your Monopads to find out! Three days from now on, I’m going to reveal all those secrets at once, for everyone to see. Unless a murder happens, of course!”

Everyone turned on their monopads at the same time. Lisa sighed, and went to look. Her secret appeared in the middle of the screen.

[Lisa’s secret: When she was in high school, Lisa cheated on her boyfriend Mike with her math teacher’s daughter. It lasted three months, and she dumped him through text during the summer holidays.]

Lisa winced. She didn’t really like to recall this event. But even though she wasn’t very proud of it, it wasn’t something that could make her turn to murder. When she raised her head again and looked at the others, she found that they had similarly puzzled reactions. Rebecca in particular, was raising her eyebrows very high.

“How did you even hear about this? That was ages ago.”

“Oh, uh, I have my ways,” Monoblade said. “Don’t worry yourself too much over the technicalities.”

“What a stupid motive,” Lisa said, yawning. “Like hell we’re going to murder someone over something like that.”

“Eh?” Jean asked. “So like, you’d be willing to share it with us right now, if need be?”

“Hm? Yeah, I guess. Why, d’you wanna know?”

Jean didn’t say anything. Lisa noticed that he looked a little distressed. He wasn’t the only one: Typhaine looked particularly nervous, Suzie had gone white, and Bertrand was standing so still it was actually a little worrying. But the worst case was Ferdinand, who had begun to cry in Magalie’s arms. He looked utterly lost and desperate.

“I… might need the assistance of an ultimate hugger,” Magalie admitted.

“I’m on the case!” Ryoji said, springing from his chair and running at Ferdinand’s side.

The knight let go of Magalie (who uttered something that sounded like “finally”) and threw himself in Ryoji’s arms, almost making him fall. Ryoji began to whisper soothing words into his ear, and the two walked away together, onward to what was probably going to turn into a makeshift therapy session.

Then Julie suddenly stood up.

“Guys, I have an announcement to make.”

“Oh, uh… oh?” Jean said, eloquently.

“Indeed. Do I have everyone’s attention?” (Everyone nodded.) “Okay. You know what Monoblade is trying to do: pin us against each other. I know some of you may be scared, but remember this: I don’t care what you did in the past. I don’t think your past defines you. If any of you wishes to speak to me about their secret, if any of you needs some guidance, I’ll be there for you. Let’s keep working together, all right? Remember, no matter what you may be feeling, you aren’t alone.”

Lisa wasn’t looking at Julie, but at Suzie. The look of complete and utter adoration on her face was almost a little disturbing. Had she always been like this? Lisa couldn’t tell.

“And besides, if the prospect of leaking your secrets scares you so much, we can all agree to just cover our ears when the big reveal day comes up,” Aphrodite commented. “Shouldn’t be that hard.”

“Oh, good point, I hadn’t thought of that,” Julie said.

“Oh wait, Julie, didn’t we have another announcement to make?” Jean suddenly recalled.

“Oh right, the party!” Julie said, facepalming. “We’ll be hosting a party in two days, in this very room. A costume party to be precise: you can all make requests to Aphrodite for what kind of costume you’d like to wear.”

“Wait wait, hold on,” Rebecca said. “Do we even have any alcohol? Because a party without alcohol, would be kinda lame.”

“There’s some wine in the kitchen,” Jean said. “This is France after all, what’s a restaurant without wine?”

“You already checked?” Lisa said, chuckling.

“’Course I did! Might have taken a glass or two, too. No worries, it’s the good stuff.”

“Oh hell yeah,” Rebecca said.

“Don’t let Ferdinand drink anything,” Magalie warned. “Trust me, just don’t.”

“Say, I never asked,” Lisa said. “Did you know Ferdinand before coming here?”

“He’s a childhood friend,” Magalie explained. “I hadn’t seen him in a while though.”

“Huh. Somehow I feel like I should have heard about that sooner.”

Julie clapped her hands to regain her classmates’ attention, then started assigning some tasks for the preparation of the party. When they were done, Lisa left the restaurant with Ryoji. They were going back to room 104, to tell Bob what he had missed.

“Say Ryo, what was on your monopad anyway?” She asked as they were entering the building.

“Oh, uh… I guess it’s okay to show you.”

He wordlessly gave her his monopad. Lisa turned it on and read the message.

[Ryoji’s secret: Ryoji you never did anything wrong in your life you stupid moron, what am I even supposed to write here? You fucking ridiculous manbaby, can’t even have a decent secret when your _whole life_ is an embarrassment. Well, not like I expected you to have the guts to murder anyone anyway, you’re just a fat waste of space in this killing game. I hope you get stabbed and die.”

Lisa whistled.

“Oh wow. He really hates you a lot, huh?”

“Yeah, it kinda hurt to read this. But at least I don’t have to fear the revelation day, so that’s something.”

“Hell yeah, that’s my Ryo!” Lisa said, elbowing him in the ribs. “Always ready to impress people by being a literal angel walking on earth!”

He blushed and mumbled something incoherent, while Lisa opened the door to room 104.

**

Bertrand was thoughtful. He was standing in the parking lot, brushing some dust from his hair, wondering what he should paint on the building’s exterior wall. It was after all, quite a large canvas, and he had already completed Roberta and Alexander’s memorials.

It should be a positive symbol, he thought. Something that would give his classmates some courage when they gazed upon it, the hope for a brighter future. Julie’s earlier speech had moved him, and he wanted to do his part on maintaining harmony and peace.

“Whoa, that’s a lot of paint,” Rebecca said, walking on the scene with Typhaine. “You’re planning a _fresque?”_

“Indeed,” Bertrand said. “Actually, the both of you, may I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Is there something that never fails to make you smile? Something that makes you feel hopeful no matter the situation?”

“An empty beach,” Rebecca replied right away. “With strong and powerful waves, threatening to shatter the rocks. The bigger it is, the better it makes me feel. I grew up in Martinique, where the water is warm at all times of the year: if you could somehow recreate that warm feeling, that would make me very happy.”

“And would contrast rather nicely with this hopelessly cold facility,” Bertrand responded, nodding in ascent. “What about you Typhaine?”

Typhaine seemed a little lost in thoughts. In fact, she didn’t appear to be all right. She had bags under her eyes, her hair was quite messy and her fingers were bleeding. Bertrand wanted to ask her if she was doing all right, but she cut him with an answer.

“I would like… to see the holy virgin, and a lot of light,” she said. “The pure light, I feel like it could… guide me.”

“Someone’s been hanging out with Lucien a little too much,” Rebecca commented, chuckling.

“Lucien is a good man,” Typhaine replied. “He’s been helping me a lot with my issues.”

 _Has he really?_ Bertrand thought. _This poor girl looks like she’s in pain._

“Rebecca, I think I’m going to leave you now,” Typhaine said. “I want to pray a little.”

“Uh, just like that? Oh, okay, she’s gone.”

“Would you happen to know what is going on?” Bertrand asked.

“I… wish I knew,” Rebecca replied, crossing her arms. “I brought her here because I wanted to help her, originally. I don’t know what’s up with her, but she’s obviously hurting, so I hoped to distract her from her worries by playing a game, or something.”

“Thank you for bringing this matter to my attention,” Bertrand said, nodding. “I will try to help her too. In the meantime I guess I can fulfill her request, and yours.”

“Are you sure that’s...” Rebecca began. “No, never mind, scratch that. Go ahead.”

Bertrand didn’t probe her any further, and began to work.

**

“Monoblade. Please come.”

The robot bear dropped from the ceiling once more. A hole had appeared in the ceiling, Lucien noticed, but it had been sealed off. How curious.

“You rang? Let me warn you, if you’re asking for some weapons, I won’t give you any! Be a good boy and break into the torture room by yourself.”

“Of course, I did not call you for something like that,” Lucien said, calmly. “I merely wish to speak with you.”

“Eh? Am I here for another sermon?”

“You may call it that.”

“Oh wonder! A sermon from the ultimate stick-in-the-ass, my favorite kind!”

“You may insult me all you like, that will not save you from your sins. We have already established during the trial that you feel guilt from your misdeeds – by admitting it, you took your first step toward the light.”

Lucien opened his eyes, and stared at the robot, with radiant intensity.

“Allow me to help you. You may believe you are beyond saving, but I know otherwise. If-”

“I’m curious, actually,” Monoblade said. “Do you actually believe in all that crap, or are you just trying to guilt-trip me into making some mistake, so that you and your pals can escape?”

“Please take this seriously. We are talking about your soul.”

“Fine, I’ll bite. You say you can save me? I’m all ears. How do you plan to do that?”

“I am glad to hear that. The path toward salvation is straightforward: and it begins with confession of one’s sins.”

Monoblade laughed.

“You really talk big, kiddo. Confession is the first step, huh? And then what, I release you all and let the police take me to jail? Maybe you’re offering to visit my cell every Thursday, and whip me while you’re at it?”

“You are afraid,” Lucien said. “But you give too much importance to the mortal realm. What goes in here is meaningless, compared to what awaits us beyond.”

“I don’t share your faith, kiddo. As far as I’m concerned, we only got one life, and it’s that one. If you’re asking me to waste it for a somewhat-less-shitty one in purgatory, you can stick it up your-”

“Ruining your life?” Lucien asked. “What is left to ruin?”

“Beg your pardon?”

“Because of you, three people are dead. Very talented young adults, who had a bright future ahead of them. That aside, you have put the remaining fifteen through emotional torture, and are trying to further manipulate them into committing more atrocities. You are a _waste_. You bring nothing useful to society, only causing sorrow and grief. What could you _possibly_ have to lose?”

He had yelled the last sentence, clutching his hands around his bible. Monoblade only laughed in return.

“You really don’t get it, huh?” He said, laughing more. “Oh my, but you’re so cute, I hope you survive for a bit longer! Well, I would explain my motivations to you, but it’s just funnier to leave you in the dark, so… toodles! Thank you for being so entertaining.”

Monoblade disappeared through the floor, and Lucien punched the wall in anger. Breathing slowly, he wiped his forehead with a little handkerchief.

“It’s fine,” he said to himself. “I will not fail. I will… win next time. I will help him.”

**

In office n°3, Suzie was seated at the desk, trying to understand a book about the apparition of bio-weapons in modern warfare. The author claimed it was a vulgarization of a more complex work, but Suzie wondered if he really knew anything about vulgarizations. This all sounded like nonsense to her, even with a dictionary at her side.

Julie was sitting on the desk next to her, and Bob was perusing the bookshelf. It had been Julie’s idea, of course – thinking that there might be some important clues in one of these books, she had suggested that she and Suzie went to read a few. They had met Bob on the way, who had gladly offered to help them. Suzie believed he would be plainly useless, and would have preferred to remain alone with Julie, but didn’t say anything.

“Fascinating,” Julie muttered (probably to herself). “Truly the work of an ultimate.”

“Whatchu readin’?” Bob asked (and Suzie wanted to slap him for interrupting Julie so rudely).

“It’s about this metal, called ‘blue steel’. Apparently it was discovered eleven years ago by a team of _chercheurs_ from the GTU – according to that book, the first mines were dug near this town.”

“A whole book about one type o’ metal? Def’nit’ly strange, Bob thinks. What makes it so great?”

“It’s apparently greatly flexible, despite being one of the most solid materials on earth, and has some other properties which I’m… currently learning about. Something to do with robotics.”

Bob scratched his beard for a moment.

“Eleven years ago you say? Don’t it have sum’thin’ to do with the war that wrecked this poor town then?”

Julie nodded and smiled at Robert, excitedly. Suzie felt a pang of jealousy in her belly. She had figured out the same thing, naturally, but had felt it would be rude to interrupt Julie like that.

“I think it’s very likely!” Julie said. “Because I’ve been thinking, do we really know how this war even started?”

“Uh… I got vague memories,” Bob said. “But I was sumthin’ like… 11 at the time, so it figures.”

“From what I remember, the official cause was an accusation of crimes against humanity,” Suzie said. “But they never really specified what the crime was exactly.”

Julie pondered, chewing her pencil intently.

“Fascinating,” she eventually said. “I have to read more.”

“But uh… sorry f’r’ askin’, but what doezzat tell us?” Bob asked. “You think the war got sumthin’ to do with our kidnappers?”

“I don’t know yet. But the fact that this book was kept here, in this facility, is a clue in itself to the facility’s purpose.”

“Oh true,” Bob said. “Didn’t thought of that. Wait, you said the book was written by an ultimate, right? So d’you think the building belongs to the GTU? Like some… super secret research lab?”

“It might very well be!” Julie said, adjusting her glasses.

“Or,” Suzie said, “those books were planted there by the mastermind to misguide us.”

There was a little moment of silence. Bob nodded in agreement, but Julie looked extremely disappointed. Suzie felt extremely guilty all of a second, and scolded herself for speaking out of turn.

_This is why you should shut up. See what happens when you talk? Now get back to reading, and quick._

**

“Do my ears deceive me? You seek guidance from the one and only Ferdinand de Soissons? What appears to be the trouble?”

It was raining again, so Ferdinand, Magalie and Ryoji had taken refuge in the ruins of one of the cars. Ferdinand was sitting at the driver seat, with Ryoji at his side, and Magalie at the back, reading some book about windmills which she had probably brought from home.

“Yeah, I need your help”, Ryoji said, staring at his knees. “Because I need to do something brave, but I’m not very brave. How is it… that you do… you?”

Ferdinand seemed very pleased by the compliment. Pounding his chest with his fist, he spoke very loudly:

“You came to the right guy! I, Ferdinand de Soissons, is a master of bravery!”

“Oh, I’m grateful,” Ryoji said, ignoring the grammatical error. “I admire you a lot you know.”

“Hehe, it’s only natural. Now, allow me to educate you, young squire. Courage is mostly a question of faith.”

“Faith?” Ryoji repeated politely.

“Indeed my friend! Faith in yourself, and in the cause you are fighting for. As long as you have that faith, you will find the strength to face any challenge.”

“Wait wait, hold on!” Ryoji said. “I don’t mean to fight anybody! I’m sure that would hurt a lot, and...”

He trailed off. Ferdinand briefly wondered who he meant by “it would hurt a lot.”

“Friend,” Ferdinand said. “The fight is only a metaphor.”

“Oh,” Ryoji said. “I’m stupid.”

“Then that makes two of us!” Ferdinand replied, laughing.

From the look on Ryoji’s face, that wasn’t the right thing to say. He coughed.

“Hm, anyway. As I was saying, faith. A knight must be certain he fights for a noble cause after all. What is it you need to do Ryoji? Are you certain your heart is in the right place?”

“I need to speak with Florian, actually,” Ryoji said. “But I’m kinda afraid he’ll bite me.”

“Bite you?” Magalie said, rising from her book (oh, so she had been listening?). “As in, literally or metaphorically?”

“Both,” Ryoji said. “I’m very scared. I’ve already lost my tongue once, I wouldn’t want to lose it again.”

“That sounds like a very irrational fear,” Magalie replied absent-mindedly.

“Whatever the case!” Ferdinand said. “If you want me to protect you while you speak with Florian, then I will be glad to assist.”

“Oh thank goodness,” Ryoji said.

**

As it turned out, Florian had been talking with Jordana (about what? Ferdinand had no clue). Since he didn’t have a key to her prison, they had been talking through the door, which had probably been a little awkward. Florian was now leaving the hallway, but Ferdinand, Ryoji and Magalie were blocking his path.

“What is this now?” He asked, sounding irritated.

“I wanted to talk with you for a bit,” Ryoji said, shoulders hunched and pressing his indexes against one another. “About what happened during the first trial.”

Florian’s eyebrows moved a little, then he crossed his arms.

“No,” he said. “I do not have anything to say to you, so back off.”

Ryoji wailed, but Ferdinand took a step forward, proudly filling up his chest.

“Now then, Florian, do not disgrace yourself with these poor manners. Your conduct during the first trial, although understandable, was-”

“Get out,” Florian said through gritted teeth. “Especially you.”

“What do you mean, especially me?” Ferdinand answered, sounding a little worried. “Do you happen to have a problem with me?”

“As a matter of a fact, yes, I do,” Florian said.

“And what is it, may I know?”

“Guys-” Ryoji began.

“You want to know?” Florian asked. “You really want to know? Here’s your answer then. You’re fake.”

“Excuse-”

“You’re all talk and no action. You keep using these big words, speaking about courage, faith, and virtue, but you never do anything useful for the group. You’re just a waste of space. Now get out of my way!”

Ferdinand had gotten white. He wordlessly pinned himself against the wall, allowing Florian to leave. Florian didn’t hesitate, and walked toward the door.

“It doesn’t have to end like this,” Ryoji tried, but the door had already slammed shut.

And as silence resumed on the hallway, all they could hear was Jordana’s irritating laugh.

“Are you okay, Ferd?” Magalie asked. “You don’t have to listen to him, y’know. He doesn’t know you.”

“I’m fine,” Ferdinand said, failing to realize how much of a bad liar he was. “I’m sorry Ryoji, I couldn’t fulfill your request.”

“That’s all right, at least you tried,” Ryoji said. “I guess… I’ll talk to him on another day.”

He too left the hallway, leaving Ferdinand alone with Magalie. None of them said anything, and as the silence grew longer and longer, Ferdinand felt an odd sense of pain inside his chest, swelling with every passing second.

**

In the restaurant, a little after dinner time was over, Aphrodite went to talk with Jean.

“Hi. Do you have any idea what you would like to wear for the costume party?”

Jean jumped a little, nearly choking on his taco (which he had made himself, and was quite delicious if he had to judge his own work). Aphrodite had this way of starting conversations without introducing herself first, which never failed to catch him off guard.

“Ah! That! Uh… do you need it now?”

“The sooner the better.”

“Hm. I see. May I speak to you… in private for a moment?”

“Let’s go to the kitchen,” Aphrodite said.

They did that. Jean sat on the floor, resting his back against the stove, then stared at his hands and flexed his fingers one by one. All present, good. Aphrodite sat (under a table? Whut?) and waited for him to be ready.

“Okay so, about my costume. I _did_ think about it, I swear! It’s just, I can’t really make up my mind. There’s what I want and… what I really want.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“It’s a bit of a tough issue, so gimme a moment please.”

Aphrodite nodded, and looked at the floor. Was she… counting the tiles? Yes, it seemed like it.

“So, like…”

Jean’s mouth was dry. It was such an easy thing to say, but the words were blocked in his throat.

“So like, if I came to the party dressed as a woman, how do you think the others would react?”

Aphrodite looked at the ceiling, and put a finger on her chin.

“I think you should expect a certain amount of awkward remarks. Being a somewhat delicate issue, I think our classmates wouldn’t know what to make of it.”

“Hmmm,” Jean said, his eyes narrowing. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

“A good counter-measure would be to make an announcement before the party. Like ‘well people, it is time to reveal that I am...’, and then you fill in with the right label.”

“But that’s the thing,” Jean said. “I haven’t really… figured out what I am yet. I just know I like wearing lady clothes every now and then.”

“Then keep it simple,” Aphrodite replied. “If you hear a question, you’ll just say that you like wearing lady clothes. Or if we want to avoid the narrow-minded notion of what types of outfits go with each gender, you can simply say that you enjoy wearing whatever outfit I will be making for you then.”

“Uh… yeah, I figure that would work.”

He looked genuinely surprised.

“Still… it’s gonna be tough, huh?” He asked, sweating.

“Probably, yeah.”

“Oh man. You think I’ll be okay?”

“I don’t know,” Aphrodite replied in all honesty. “I don’t know you well enough to determine that.”

“Hm,” Jean said. “Fair enough. I guess I’ll… try.”

“Nice,” Aphrodite said, offering him one of her rare smiles as encouragement. “So what will it be?”

“Okay, so like, first it has to be crimson and pink, and I want high heels if that’s possible, maybe those tall boots with laces? And of course we’ll have to think of the makeup, and my hair, and-”

At this point Lisa, who had been spying on their conversation up to this point, decided to discreetly leave. She suddenly felt really proud of Jean (or maybe Jeanne now? Who knew?). But later in her room when Rebecca asked her what was up, she kept her mouth shut. It was bad enough that she had been spying, she wasn’t going to make it worse by spilling the beans.

**

Ryoji was lying down on his bed, staring at the ceiling, lost in thoughts. Strangely enough, he hadn’t been all that affected by Florian’s earlier outburst. Maybe he hadn’t really expected the exchange to go well, and thus had been able to shield his heart in advance-

“Hey bro, whatchu thinking ‘bout?”

Oh, Bob. For how long had he been in the room? Not like it mattered.

“Florian,” Ryoji said, incapable of lying.

“Ah, that prick. If you wan’ me to stick a punch in his stupid smug face, I can still do it, y’know?”

“No thank you,” Ryoji said. “He would bite your first.”

“Is he really into bitin’ people?” Bob asked, sounding worried.

“I think so,” Ryoji replied, frowning. “But I don’t know why I know. I think it’s just a hunch.”

“It be like that sometimes,” Bob replied with a shrug. “Mind if I lie down next to you?”

“Oh, no problem at all,” Ryoji said, moving to give his friend some space. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you wanted to rest.”

“’s’okay.”

They both stared at the (despairingly white) ceiling for a bit.

“Y’know, I like sleeping with you,” Bob said innocently. “The bed is comfy, but you’re comfier.”

Ryoji blushed.

“I feel a little bad sometimes,” he admitted. “I take so much space, it must be uncomfortable for you. I wish I were a bit less fat sometimes.”

“Pff, dun’t you worry yourself about silly things like that!” Bob replied, giggling. “You’re good the way you are. I like you the way you are,” he added, patting Ryoji’s round belly and grinning.

Ryoji blushed even stronger, mumbling a “thank you very much”. Then they both turned their heads after hearing the door closing. Expecting someone to be into the room, they looked at the other bed, but no one was there. Shrugging it off, they went back to their conversation.

Meanwhile in the hallway, Lisa was grinning too.

“Did you _hear_ that?” She said, (not bothering to be quiet, on account of the sound-proof rooms). “There’s definitely something going on between them!”

“Of course there is,” Rebecca said. “It’s pretty obvious when you think about it.”

“Yeah, but it’s funny how they haven’t realized it themselves,” Lisa added with a giggle.

“You don’t say? It’s going to be hilarious if we tease them about it.”

“Oh please, let’s do it!”

And they high-fived to seal the deal. Meanwhile Bob whispered in Ryoji’s ear that he could call him his “soul bro” if he liked.


	19. Back to School

Lisa got out of bed, and went outside right away. It was raining again, but she didn’t mind. She was wearing a very baggy pajama which proclaimed “I don’t care about anything anymore” on the front. She was surprised to find Monoblade in the parking lot, resting on a miniature deckchair and reading a newspaper (whose headlines read as ‘idiotic college students come up with yet more stupid ideas!’).

“What are you doing here, _monsieur kidnappeur?”_ She asked.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Monoblade replied, sounding upset.

“Reading a fake newspaper in the rain,” Lisa said. “Aren’t you going to rust?”

“I don’t _rust,”_ Monoblade replied almost aggressively. “Get away from me now, or I’ll execute your buddies for breakfast.”

“Geez, someone’s in a sour mood.”

Shrugging, she left him to his soggy newspaper and went to make breakfast for everyone, considering it was her turn. Once more, she found herself alone with Suzie in the restaurant lounge.

“Suzie, do you even sleep?” She asked, sounding concerned. “It’s like… 5am I think. How long have you been waiting there?”

“Huh? I don’t remember. Not like it matters all that much, does it?”

Lisa narrowed her eyes, but since she didn’t really like to play the mom, she didn’t add anything, and went to the kitchen to make some porridge. During her conversation, she learned that Suzie was actually the daughter of the former president (what), a fact which Suzie laid casually on her lap as if it were an extremely minor detail.

“But wait, do you think your mom knew?” Lisa asked as the others were beginning to arrive. “About Lorient, and the fact that this whole toxic air business was a lie? Or was she not allowed in the conspiracy?”

“I actually don’t know that,” Suzie said, frowning deeply. “I never would have imagined there was a conspiracy, I mean… it was my mom! But now if I saw her, I would definitely like to ask her.”

Lisa felt a little uncomfortable for a second.

“… you said she ‘was’ your mom?”

“Hm. After the end of her mandate, she had a critical breakdown. She’s in a hospital now, and my dad broke all ties with her, so it’s hard to consider her my ‘mom’ still.”

“I see. That’s kinda sad. Being a leader is a stressful job, huh?”

“I’m glad you understand,” Suzie said with a nod. “That’s why we should all take care of Julie, ‘kay? So she doesn’t exhaust herself.”

“Gotcha,” Lisa said.

“Somebody called my name?” Julie asked, arriving on the scene.

She was wearing a long green dress that day, above a little white shirt with blue straps. She had her gloves, as always, but a different pair of glasses. She seemed quite energetic.

“Oh no, you must have misheard us,” Lisa said, smiling.

“Oh, ‘kay,” Julie said as she sat down. “Cool, porridge, I love porridge. Fibers, and stuff.”

“You okay Julie?”

“I had a breakthrough, actually,” Julie said (as she began to eat ridiculously fast). “All this time, we’ve been so focused on the killing game drama, we all forgot that we’re supposed to study! We went to college after all, and what is college for?”

“Hey, you’re being unfair,” Magalie said. “I gave a lecture about Italy during the middle ages a few days ago, right?”

“Indeed, you did! And my thought was, we need more of that. Much more of that! We have to gather all the resources at our disposal, and ourselves become the teachers, so that we won’t fall behind on our duties!”

“Uh, I guess it’s not impossible,” Jean said. “We could try to read a few of the books from the offices in the north wing?”

“Those are extremely complicated though,” Suzie replied, placing both of her hands on the table. “Most of the volumes Julie and I read were for specialists in various scientific fields, which doesn’t really apply to any of us.”

“Indeed, the books would have been a good idea in other circumstances, but I don’t that’ll work,” Julie agreed. “But we don’t need the books. We’re ultimates! All we have to do is use our talents to teach each other some things.”

“I don’t mind teaching you some cool bike moves,” Lisa said, “but I only have one bicycle. And I doubt Monoblade will allow me to have more.”

Julie seemed to ponder for a moment.

“Still, you’ve traveled quite a lot, haven’t you? And met a lot of people? Based on your experience, you can teach us a bit about European geography, or perhaps share some of your insights when it comes to sociology! Whatever you can do for us will be thoroughly appreciated.”

Lisa blinked.

“I guess I never thought of that. I can try, I suppose?”

“Good, good!” (Julie was clapping her hands excitedly). “Okay, so what about the others? Jean, that’s easy, you can teach us how to cook. Work with Typhaine, your talents are quite similar after all.”

“Sure, I don’t mind.”

“Yeah, me neither,” Typhaine added.

“I thought you’d be much more excited about this,” Jean noticed, raising a single eyebrow.

“I have a headache,” she explained. “And I’m a little tired.”

“Oh, I see.”

“This is quite exciting,” Julie continued. “Of course Magalie can teach us a lot about medieval history, Ferdinand must know a lot about fencing, Rebecca… the basin is a little small for all of us to swim in, but you could give us some sport lessons, right?”

“True,” Rebecca said. “That shouldn’t be too difficult.”

“Aphrodite can teach us to sew, Bertrand to paint, Bob could probably share some facts about life on the street, which is always good to know.”

“And maybe Ryoji can host some relaxation sessions?” Lisa suggested. “God knows we could all use those.”

“Yeah, I could do that,” Ryoji said. “We could place some mats in the elevator room, and take a moment to rest, all together.”

“See?” Julie asked. “All the things we can learn from each other! I’m not forgetting anyone, am I?”

“You forgot me,” Suzie said, sounding a little bitter.

“And Lucien,” Magalie added.

“Oh right, Lucien. But wait, where is he?” Julie asked. “Usually he’s up early.”

Ferdinand got up so quickly that he nearly dropped his chair.

“I’m going to go look for him!” He shouted, pounding his chest.

“Actually, I was gonna say the same thing!” Lisa added.

“Then I’ll come with you,” Ryoji said.

“May I come too?” Bertrand asked. “I have a question for him.”

“Of course!” Ferdinand said. “The more, the merrier!”

And he started running, soon followed by Lisa. Ryoji wondered if Bertrand was going to run too.

“I can carry you if you don’t want to run,” he suggested. “I’m not very strong but I could try.”

“That is very kind of you,” Bertrand said, “although somewhat strange, I admit. But no, I can run just fine, thank you.”

“Oh, all right,” Ryoji said, and ran to catch up with the others.

Lucien was staying in room 102, so Ferdinand naturally knocked on the door once he arrived.

“Do you think he can even hear the knocks?” Lisa wondered. “With the whole soundproof system thing?”

“Good question,” Ferdinand said. “I guess not.”

And he opened the door, which thankfully wasn’t locked. They found Lucien sitting on his bed, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

“What time is it? Oh dear, there are four of you. What appears to be the matter?”

“We freaked out for no reason,” Lisa explained. “Typical us!”

“Oh, I see. My apologies, I did not sleep well. I must have forgotten to take my sleeping pills yesterday.”

“You need sleeping pills?” Lisa asked curiously.

“Indeed, and quite powerful ones too. But I will soon be running out… maybe I shall ask Julie to open the torture room for me, see if they have some more.”

“She will not,” Bertrand said. “I asked for something similar, but she said she would rather not open this room for anyone, unless there was an emergency.”

“Hm,” Lucien said. “All right. If you all could give me some space...”

“Right, we’re out!” Lisa said, closing the door.

As the others left, Bertrand waited near the door, resting his back against the wall. He couldn’t calm down the trembling of his hands, so he put them in his pockets.

“Maybe I should ask Bob if… hm,” he mumbled to himself.

“Something the matter?” Lucien asked, opening the door.

“Indeed. I wondered if you needed a new chapel in this building, and if I should paint some crosses again?”

“Ah, you raised a good point. Maybe the first science lab, the one adjacent to Jordana’s room, would do quite nicely.”

 _I wouldn’t personally think that science and religion mix all that well, but you do you,_ Bertrand thought.

“It will be done.”

They shook hands, and left.

**

“Monoblade?”

The little robot was still on his little deckchair, and it was still raining. He had apparently found some sunglasses, which he removed when Aphrodite came to talk to him.

“What is it now? Are you here to give me a sermon about virtue and sin? No thanks.”

“I did consider it, actually,” Aphrodite said. “Guess it’ll be for another time. Still, I have a request for you.”

“I’m all ears.”

“Well, you’ve probably figured that we wanted to host a party, right? But we don’t have anything to broadcast music. And a party without music could get awkward really fast. You get what I’m trying to say?”

“All clear, my dear. But why would I want to help you?”

“You brought us some blankets before. You had no particular reason to do it, but you did it anyway.”

“Yeah well, I’m a changed bear,” he replied, sounding somewhat frustrated. “I won’t be kind anymore, I’ll be the worst headmaster you’ve ever heard of! Cruel and vicious, that’ll be me, Monoblade!”

“Sure,” Aphrodite said. “Buy us a stereo then.”

“Uh… were you even listening?”

“Indeed, I was. You want to be truly cruel? Then you have to balance out the bad things with good ones, so we can taste… true despair, or something. If our lives are shit from day to night, we’ll just commit suicide one by one, and that won’t be very fun, will it?”

“Uh… that’s a weird argument,” Monoblade said. “Have you actually thought it through, or…?”

“It just came to me,” Aphrodite replied with a shrug.

Monoblade sighed dramatically.

“Fine, I’ll buy you your stupid stereo! God, these kids, I can’t believe you sometimes. Take the killing game a bit more seriously, won’t you?”

“Yes sir,” Aphrodite said. “Thank you sir.”

And just like that, she was gone.

“How did it go?” Rebecca asked, when she met her in the north wing’s hallway.

“Exactly as I expected,” Aphrodite replied. “It wasn’t even remotely difficult.”

“You’re literally a god,” Rebecca said with a chuckle.

“According to my name, I must be one.”.

**

During the afternoon, Rebecca gave her first PE class in the parking lot (where thankfully, it had stopped raining). But being an athlete herself, she didn’t seem to be aware of the average person’s physical ability, and thus made her training very hard. Lisa was fine and didn’t think the training was particularly difficult, but she was the only one. Ferdinand was sweating and yelling curses in Latin, Lucien repeated “oh lord” every five seconds, Ryoji panted so much he sounded like a dog, and Jean purely and simply gave up after fifteen minutes. Florian didn’t participate, but watched everything from a safe distance, snickering to himself.

“Whut the hell whuzzat?” Bob asked when it all ended, wheezing in pain.

“Physical torture?” Magalie suggested. “Absolutely barbaric. It’s official, athletes aren’t to be trusted.”

“It’s not our fault you’re all a bunch of wimps,” Lisa said, crossing her arms.

“Please don’t call us that, you’ll make me cry,” Ryoji whimpered.

“Bro!” Bob shouted, rushing (or rather crawling) to hug him. “Don’t hurt his feelings Lisa, you know he’s sensitive.”

“I kinda… regret everything,” Julie stated, adjusting her glasses.

“No kidding,” Jean said, rolling his eyes.

“What we’re trying to say is that maybe you should go a little easier on us next time, Rebecca,” Aphrodite summarized once she had caught her breath. “Otherwise no one will come to you classes ever again. Well, except perhaps Lisa.”

“I’m sorry guys, I didn’t realize I made it this hard,” Rebecca said, feeling embarrassed. “I’ll bake y’all some cakes to make it up for it!”

“Oh, tha’s a real good thought there,” Bob commented. “I’m starvin’.”

“Say Bob, it’s just me or you’ve gotten a little bit… pudgier, since you got here?” Magalie asked suspiciously.

“Huh? You think so?”

He lifted his shirt (a blue one with a corgi design, probably borrowed from Ryoji) and looked at his gut pensively. It did seem a little rounder than before.

“I guess yer right,” he said, scratching the back of his head pensively. “Didn’ notice until now. Guess Ryo’s havin’ a bad influence on me,” he added with a toothy grin, ruffling Ryoji’s hair as he laughed.

“Do you really think that?” Ryoji asked, sounding sincerely worried.

“Aw c’mon Ryo, dun’ look so down! It’s only natural I’d want to look like my new bro, yeah? We’re cool.”

“Okay,” Ryoji said, nodding to himself. “Okay.”

“So out of curiosity,” Aphrodite asked, “when’s our next class, and what will it be about?”

Julie searched through her pocket, but Suzie handed her the paper she had been looking for. Julie took it without thanking her.

“Okay, let’s see. Bertrand’s art class is the next on our list, but we should all have a shower first.”

“Oh, that’s a very good point,” Magalie said. “We stink.”

“Uh, but like, there’s only two showers,” Jean reminded them. “This is going to take forever.”

“Me an’ bro can take our shower together, no big deal,” Bob said. “It’ll speed up the process, yeah?”

“You sound a little too eager,” Lisa said, smirking.

“Yer imaginin’ things,” Bob replied, blushing.

“How do we solve this problem?” Julie wondered.

“We could always use the basin,” Bertrand suggested.

“Oh sweet, pool party!” Lisa shouted, throwing her arms in the air.

“Yay!” Rebecca agreed.

“But the basin is too small,” Suzie said. “We’ll be overcrowded.”

“Who cares at this point?” Magalie asked. “It’ll remind us of the train. Happy happy memories,” she added sarcastically.

“I’ve never washed myself with other people like that,” Typhaine said. “Isn’t it going to feel a little weird?”

“You mean, weirder than this whole experience?” Jean asked. “Let’s just go.”

They all began undressing, right there in the parking lot, tossing their clothes in the air without a care in the world, all under the eyes of a very bewildered Florian. Next, thirteen students in their underwear ran into the main building, and all jumped into the basin roughly at the same time.

“By heavens, I forgot how cold it waaaaas!” Ferdinand yelled.

“Shit, me too,” Magalie complained. “Oh god. It’s really painful, isn’t it?”

“Don’t say that, now I’m never going to find the courage to jump,” Jean complained (he had remained at the edge of the basin).

“Suffer the cold, or stink,” Magalie warned.

“God Magalie, you’re so intense!” Lisa said. “That’s really cool.”

“Indeed,” Aphrodite said.

Magalie blinked

“Uh, thanks.”

Rebecca was already swimming at the very bottom of the basin, but she emerged between Ryoji and Bob, making some water rain on their heads.

“It’s the fountain of love!” She said cheerfully.

“Oh, sweet,” Ryoji said. “I like love.”

“I just realized,” Julie said. “We forgot to bring the soap.”

“I’ll go get it!” Jean said.

It was a very strange moment. The water was very cold, but being close to so many bodies brought a lot of warmth to counterbalance it. Lisa could hardly believe it. She really felt _good_. She felt safe and happy, she felt loved, she felt serene. With everyone here together, she couldn’t possibly imagine another murder taking place.

The next class was very lively. Considering Bertrand had run out of canvases, he made his students paint directly on the cars. He ran among them, sharing some pieces of advice, correcting a line on a sketch, suggesting a new idea. It was a good thing he owned a ridiculous amount of brushes, because thanks to that everyone could practice at the same time. They borrowed the lab coats from the science lab to prevent their clothes from being stained, but Lisa took it as an excuse to throw some paint at her classmates, which soon derailed in a massive paint war, despite Julie’s best efforts to bring back the peace.

Next Lucien was supposed to give a lesson on the history of the Christian church’s origins, but everyone was far too tired for that, so they had a simple prayer in the new chapel, and then fled to the restaurant so they could have dinner. As promised, Rebecca made some cakes (Bob, Ryoji and Ferdinand had a contest for who could eat the most, which Ryoji won very easily). Julie frowned at the whole idea, but Rebecca didn’t seem to mind.

“Geez,” Jean said at the end of the meal. “What a day. Who knew adding courses into our timetable could make our lives so crazy?”

“We should all thank our leader for this absolutely wondrous idea!” Ferdinand shouted. “Julie, you’re a sparkling gem and your contribution is deeply appreciated!”

“Yeah, like, that was so much fun!” Rebecca said, slamming both hands on the table. “We totally have to do it again!”

“Not every day maybe,” Jean said with a tired smile. “It’s great, but it’s exhausting.”

“No kidding,” Suzie said, looking at her knees.

“Well, tomorrow’s the party day,” Julie said with a shrug. “But I’m working on a planning for the following week! Perhaps Florian will eventually agree to join us.”

“But not Jordana?” Bertrand asked, quietly.

Everyone turned to look at him.

“How much longer do you plan to keep her locked in?” Bertrand asked, in a completely flat tone of voice. “We have yet to discuss her case, despite what you promised.”

“Hey Bertrand, what’s the deal?” Jean asked. “We were having fun, why d’you have to bring that up?”

Julie gasped.

“I forgot to bring her food!” She screamed. “Oh no!”

She then shot up from her chair, quickly followed by Suzie, and ran into the kitchen.

“When we enjoy ourselves, it is easy for us to forget the others around us,” Bertrand sighed. “But it is still unfair. We should be more careful. What Jordana did was dreadful, but by discriminating her, we are only proving that she was right.”

It was as if a cold wind had washed away the joy. Everyone looked either guilty of uncomfortable, Ferdinand and Ryoji especially.

“You are quite right my friend,” Lucien said, nodding. “Wise words.”

“Like hell.” (Jean had spoken coldly, clutching his hands tightly). “You think I could forgive Jordana that easily? After what she’s done? Julie was right to lock her up. She did that so we’d all be safe. You should be grateful!”

Bertrand didn’t raise his voice.

“We will speak of this again.”

And he left the room quietly. After a long moment of awkward silence, Jean left the room as well.

“Oh well, it was good while it lasted,” Magalie commented as she took a sip of water. “Cheers to… awkward evenings.”

And she chugged the rest of her glass.


	20. Pirates, Wine, and Body Discovery Announcement

Julie offered to give everyone a new haircut, or fancy hairstyle for the upcoming party. Being the ultimate hairdresser, she could work absolute wonders with limited resources, and managed to brew some makeshift hair dye with some chemicals she had found in the science labs. She promised it was harmless and would wash off in a few days. Lisa was very excited to try out red hair, because it would made her look “just like one of those fire leaders from Pokemon”. To pursue the aesthetic further, Julie made her hair artistically messy and spiky. She looked a little weird, but was thoroughly satisfied. Bertrand asked that she could refresh his side cut and pink dye, which she did better than it had originally been. Magalie and Ferdinand obtained medieval-styled braids (and thanks to Magalie’s knowledge, they could be certain of the historical accuracy); Jean refused to have an inch of his hair trimmed, but wasn’t opposed to a dye that made his black hair even blacker. Aphrodite, whose incredibly thick and long hair was usually left wild and tangled, had a thorough washing, trimming of the tips, and a hair style that made her look like a character from a fantasy world. Julie also styled the men’s beards, giving Bob a wonderful moustache which made him look a victorian gentleman.

Before lunch, Ryoji went to talk to Florian, trying to convince him to join the party.

“I do not want to talk to you right now,” came the answer. “Leave me alone.”

“Please, Florian, if you need to be forgiven-”

“I neither need nor want your pity, so back off, piglet.”

Ryoji sniveled.

“Why do you say these mean things? You know they hurt me a lot, right? I’m just trying to help you.”

Florian stared at his feet and walked away, looking somewhat guilty. Ryoji didn’t dare add anything, and dropped the issue.

During lunch, Jean made an announcement.

“Okay so… I got some sort of announcement to make. I’m a little nervous but...”

His eyes met Aphrodite’s unfaltering gaze, which gave him a little courage.

“Okay. I’m ready. Uh… how do I say this? Oh fuck it, let’s remain simple. I like wearing lady clothes, and I’ll probably be wearing a dress at the party tonight. Because… it makes me happy. I dunno if I’m trans or what, I’m not sure, but like… if from now on you could refer to me using “they” pronouns that’d make me very happy.”

Jean had been speaking very slowly and carefully at first, making sure to articulate every word properly, but had accelerated drastically once reaching the critical part, and their voice had lost itself in a high-pitch near the end.

“No problem at all,” Bertrand said. “Thank you for informing us.”

“Oh, that’s cool! You probably look great in a dress!” Lisa added.

“You want to eventually change your name as well?” Magalie asked.

“I’m considering it,” Jean admitted. “But it’s going to take me some time to find a good one. I’ll keep you posted, yeah?”

“Works for us,” Magalie said.

Jean was shaking a little, but no one seemed particularly offended by this sudden reveal. Of course, from the group as a whole, there weren’t many for who this was a complete surprise. They had already confessed their doubts to Lucien after a prayer, later to Julie who had been with Suzie at the time, obviously Aphrodite knew, and Rebecca had probably already figured it out at some point. Still, it was a big leap, making it official. They felt proud, but also a little tired. They went back to sitting on their chair.

“And now please, stop giving me any attention for the next hour,” they said with a nervous chuckle. “Look anywhere but on me. Please.”

“Sure thing,” Lisa said, looking away, nearly shoving a thumb up in his face.

The rest of the afternoon was spent decorating the restaurant lounge and dining area. Bertrand painted all the walls with lively colors, Rebecca and Lisa hung some paper garlands they had made together, Aphrodite disposed hand-sewn tablecloths on the tables, Julie, Suzie and Ryoji took care of the cleaning (so, so much dust), Jean and Bob decorated the bar and prepared the drinks, Typhaine and Lucien decided on the music (looking through the CDs that Monoblade had provided for them). Later, Jean and Typhaine made some food and snacks that they disposed on the various tables, and everyone left to put on their costumes.

Lisa had chosen to be a pirate. Quite a classic choice, but she didn’t mind – also she would be matching with Rebecca, which was always nice. Ryoji did his best to draw some scars on her face with Julie’s makeup. He was disguised as a panda, wearing what looked like a comfy pajama. Always ursine, that one. Bob had told him five times that he was adorable, and Ryoji had blushed harder each time.

“So, are you going to be dancing with Bob tonight?” Lisa asked as Ryoji applied the finishing touches to her makeup.

“I dunno. I really like dancing, but… I haven’t had many opportunities to practice. I’m very afraid I’ll make a fool of myself.”

“Everyone will be drunk, and besides it’s not like we care, is it?”

“Mmmmmh,” he said, sounding nervous. “I’m still scared.”

“Will Bob even give you a choice though?”

“I’m not sure.”

“I feel like this might just solve your problem there buddy.”

“Might do,” Ryoji admitted.

They walked to the party together. Ryoji was shaking, but he smiled very brightly when the others cheered them as they entered the restaurant. The music was blaring from a stereo (oh, they had a stereo now? Nice.), it sounded really familiar (Lisa had probably heard it on the radio at some point). She immediately went to see Aphrodite, who was munching on some crisps in the corner of the room.

“Huh? You’re the only one without a costume!” She remarked, incredulous.

“Indeed,” Aphrodite said. “I like making costumes, but not wearing them all that much. I’d rather admire them on people. Still.”

She raised her hand, showing Lisa a black glove she was wearing.

“I’m wearing this thing. I made an effort, see? I could probably be… a character from something, that wears a glove.”

Lisa laughed, and asked her if she wanted to dance. Aphrodite reluctantly agreed, and Lisa ran to the center of the room. She wasn’t a very good dancer, truth be told, but she didn’t really care. Aphrodite’s moves were a little robotic in their execution – they made a rather odd pair.

“Jean, you’re looking gorgeous!” She shouted as she saw him twirling with Julie.

“Thanks!” they replied, nearly tripping on their own dress. “But god, I’m not used to wearing this thing. How do you do it every day Julie?”

“Question of habit!”

As expected, Bob dragged Ryoji to the dance floor, and began guiding him. At first, the bigger man was very shy, constantly weary of the others looking at him – but he eventually let go of his fear, and acted with much more nonchalance. He wasn’t exactly a good dancer, but he was oddly graceful in his own way, despite wearing a panda costume. Magalie and Ferdinand danced together, but it looked more like a dance class than a duet. She kept giving him advice, telling him where to put his feet, his hands, his arms – the poor man was doing his best, but didn’t seem to enjoy himself all that much.

On the side, Bertrand and Lucien were having a very deep conversation about soul and the afterlife, which Suzie was listening to without actually participatng. Typhaine was sitting at the opposite end of the room, alone, looking completely lost in thoughts. Lisa eventually went to talk to her.

“Hey Typh! Why do you look so down? D’you want to dance with me?”

“No thank you,” Typhaine said, finishing her glass of wine.

“What happened to you?” Lisa asked, frowning. “You used to be one of the most energetic among us, but now you’re all...”

Failing to find the right words, she merely flailed her arms around.

“I’m just thinking about tomorrow, when all our secrets are going to be revealed,” Typhaine explained. “I’m anxious.”

“You’re seriously thinking about that, now of all times?” Lisa asked incredulously. “C’mon, Typh! It’s tomorrow and no one has died, you realize what this means? We’ve beaten the mastermind to his game!”

“Not yet,” Typhaine said. “I’m sorry, I’m just going to… sleep in my room, I think.”

Lisa tried to stop her, but Typhaine only ignored her. Shrugging, Lisa went to grab a bite.

Then, she went back to the dance floor, stealing Rebecca from her partner as a new song began. Exhausted, Julie went back to sit with Lucien, Aphrodite, Magalie, Ferdinand and Bertrand.

“Oh, shit,” she suddenly spouted. “I forgot to feed Jordana again.”

“It’s like you’re talking about your dog,” Magalie said, rolling her eyes. “Well hurry up.”

“Uh, right. I left a plate for her in the kitchen, I think… wait, where…?”

“We can help you find it,” Bertrand suggested.

“Yes please,” Julie said, running into the kitchen.

Eventually Lucien found it inside the microwave. Bertrand was originally going to bring it to Jordana, but Ferdinand insisted on doing it himself. When he met Jordana, she was in an especially foul mood. He remained at her side for a little while as she ate, asking her what was wrong (because a knight’s duty was to help those in need, and Jordana fit into this category apparently). She talked to him about a few meaningless things, then suddenly kissed him without warning.

“So that’s what the lips of a virgin taste like?” She asked when she was done, wiping her mouth with her sleeve. “Interesting.”

“You...” (Ferdinand stammered, in shock). “You viper!” He screamed indignantly.

“Am I wrong though?”

He left her room a very angry (and confused) man. Back at the restaurant, he began to drink more and more, despite Magalie’s warnings. As it turned out, he was very bad with alcohol, and ended up nearly stripping completely in the middle of the room (thankfully Julie managed to stop him in time).

“Okay, okay,” she said, putting a lock of hair behind her ear. “I think that’s enough excitement for me. I’ll go to my room.”

Suzie followed her, and they both disappeared. Aphrodite and Lucien were next to go. Lisa remained until very late, replacing Lucien as Bertrand’s philosophy partner. She was so tired by the end that Ryoji had to carry her to her room. She vaguely remembered that Rebecca and Bertrand were the only ones left in the restaurant when Ryoji carried her out. Oh, there might have been Ferdinand sleeping on a chair somewhere too.

The next morning, Aphrodite and Lucien left their rooms at the exact same time. Running into each other in the hallway, the exchanged a nod, and walked toward the restaurant together.

It was unbearably hot that day. It felt like the sun had developed a grudge against mankind during the course of the night. It was also very, very quiet. For the first time since their arrival, the wind had died down.

“So the day has come, has it not?” Lucien said. “I hope whatever truths come to light today, they will not have too bad of an impact on the group’s stability.”

“I wonder how many actual secrets there,” Aphrodite said. “Mine isn’t really something that I would be particularly scared to reveal, although it was a little embarrassing. When I asked around, it seems like several of us had a similar experience. I fear this motive was meant to target a few of us specifically.”

“That is a possibility. I wish more people came to me for help. I feel like I have failed as a priest, if they cannot trust me.”

Lucien pushed the door open, but stopped immediately, putting a hand to cover his mouth.

“What is it?” Aphrodite said.

She peeked over his shoulder.

“Oh,” she said. “This is bad.”

Suzie was lying on the floor in a pool of blood. Her left arm had been cut off and was lying next to her body on a white piece of cloth. A kitchen knife had been planted in it. Aphrodite knelt next to Suzie’s body, checking her pulse.

“She’s still alive,” she said with a sigh of relief. “Monoblade, you have to come right away.”

“Somebody calling for me? Oh, you found that thing! Good for you!”

“What happened to her?” Aphrodite asked, while Lucien took a photo of the scene.

“I can’t tell you that!” Monoblade said with a laugh.

“But if you do nothing, she will certainly die from blood loss,” Lucien said. “You protected Ryoji and Jordana before, why does she not deserve the same treatment?”

“I needed you guys to find her first! That’s how this game works! It was the same thing for Ryoji, you’ll recall.”

Monoblade waddled toward Lucien.

“After all, this could be a very important clue, if you see what I mean.”

He spoke in a conspirator’s tone.

“A clue? Are you telling me Suzie is somehow tied in a murder plot?”

“It’s not impossible! If there’s a maniac going around tearing people’s limbs apart, you should be ready for the worst, right?”

“We have to search the facility,” Aphrodite said. “Monoblade, will you be taking care of her?”

“Sure! The helicopter is already on its way. I wouldn’t want her to miss the class trial though, so expect Suzie to be back soon!”

And he laughed again. Lucien and Aphrodite exchanged a concerned glance.

“We have to warn the others, and quick. Did you see anything strange in the parking lot?”

“No, I did not,” Lucien replied. “Still, we should inspect it thoroughly in case a body was somehow hidden.”

They ran into the parking lot together, inspecting the cars, the ruins, the grass, but couldn’t find anything. Typhaine eventually arrived, asking what was going on.

“I’m going to wake the others,” she said after Lucien had explained the situation, before running back the way she came.

Aphrodite and Lucien found themselves alone again.

“Where next?”

“The offices. I think that’s where Florian is sleeping, maybe he can tell us more.”

But there wasn’t anything in the offices, beside a very sleepy Florian, who yelled at Aphrodite for interrupting his sleep. His anger washed away immediately when she explained what was going on.

Back into the hallway, Aphrodite and Lucien agreed to split up: Lucien would inspect the eastern wing, and Aphrodite the west. She ran again, faintly hearing the voices of her classmates waking up. Her mind was completely blank, all she knew was that she had to make sure everyone was safe.

But when she reached the hallway, Julie’s smile greeted her through science lab n°1’s window. An unnatural grin, forever frozen in place like a theater mask. Her severed head had been placed on a little table, an arrow stuck in her head.

“A body has been discovered!” Came Monoblade’s voice through the speakers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Julie's death portrait: https://imgur.com/a/qFLdoqr


	21. Sunny Investigation

Soon, everyone had gathered in front of the science lab. There were various reactions to the discovery of Julie’s severed heads, but Aphrodite didn’t pay attention to them. She was more concerned with the fact that she couldn’t open the door.

“D-don’t panic everyone,” Jean was saying. “I-if we do everything like last time, we should be okay, right? We’ll d-definitely catch the culprit!”

They were trembling, grabbing their own shoulders with their two hands. Ryoji eventually place his hands on their shoulders, trying to ease them a little.

“What’s going on?” Lisa asked. “Why won’t you open the door?”

“It’s locked,” Aphrodite explained. “Julie had the key but...”

She didn’t finish her sentence.

“This is problematic,” Lucien said, frowning. “We must open this door at any cost. There was a second key, no? Who had it?”

“Suzie,” Aphrodite said. “But Monoblade took her away.”

“Aha! I guess that’s my cue!”

Monoblade had once more dropped from the ceiling, clapping his hands cheerfully.

“What is it? You kids need a spare key? Oh wait, actually I think the door might just be stuck. Try pushing it a little harder.”

“While you’re here, I have a question for you,” Aphrodite said.

“Oho? Whatever could it be?”

“It’s about the body discovery announcement. Why does it exist, and how does it work? Is there a rule?”

Monoblade sighed.

“Such a boring question! Well, it’s like… when roughly three people discover a body, I ring the announcement. It’s just to officially launch the investigation, ya dig?”

“Roughly?”

“I don’t care too much about the details, and sometimes I nod off and forget to broadcast it.”

“I see,” Aphrodite said. “Thank you.”

“So uh… should we begin?” Jean asked. “Julie isn’t there to give us orders, but… we can manage without her, right?”

“Hold on,” Magalie said. “We’re not all here.”

“Huh? Who is missing?”

“Jordana obviously,” Magalie said. “But Rebecca and Bertrand too.”

“Shit, yer right,” Bob said. “Figure somethin’ happened to them too?”

“It’s not impossible. Let’s be careful this time.”

“We should search in pairs,” Lucien suggested. “It would be safer for everyone.”

Considering Bob immediately chose to investigate with Ryoji, Lisa formed a pair with Aphrodite. She slammed her shoulder into the door, and walked into the science lab.

“Oh god,” Lisa said. “What the… what the _fuck?”_

It wasn’t just Julie’s head: her whole body had been cut to pieces. Her torso was resting on one of the tables in the middle of the science lab, one of her arms was on the floor, her left leg on a chair. She was wearing her party costume, which was soaked in blood.

“This is so fucked up,” Lisa said, shaking a little. “I want to throw up again.”

“This is so… strange,” Aphrodite commented. “What could be the point of doing something so barbaric?”

“You think there’s even a point?” Lisa asked. “There’s a bloody psycho among us, that’s the only-”

“A body has been discovered!” Ran the announcement once more.

Lisa froze. She heard a scream from somewhere.

“That was Typhaine, right? We have to help her!”

She bolted out of the room. The scream had come from the first torture room, in the same hallway. Typhaine was on her knees at the door, openly sobbing.

“What happened?” Lisa yelled. “What’s going on?”

Lucien came out of the room, hands joined in a prayer. His eyes were closed, he was mumbling to himself. Lisa pushed him out of the way and entered the torture room.

Bertrand’s corpse lay on the floor, right in front of her, pinned by a large metallic tool. For some strange reason, he was shirtless. She thought she was about to faint. Just after discovering Julie’s body, it was a little too much for her. As she tripped and stumbled, Aphrodite caught her at the last minute.

“Hang in there Lisa,” she whispered in her ear. “Stay with me.”

Lisa shook her head, regained her balance, and hugged Aphrodite for comfort.

“I feel dizzy,” she said. “Really dizzy. Are you even real?”

“Come on,” Aphrodite said. “We gotta get out of here.”

Aphrodite grabbed Lisa’s wrists forcefully and exited the torture room, closing the door behind her. Lucien was already taking care of Typhaine, and a bunch of people were running around, but Aphrodite ignored them. She brought Lisa into the parking lot, outside.

“You’re going to be okay,” she said calmly. “I’m here. Are you breathing a little easier?”

“I’m… fine, I think,” Lisa said, after heaving breathed very slowly for a full minute. “Ah, thank you, I just...”

She trailed off.

“Let’s get back to it.”

“Already?”

“Yeah, I’m fine now. I can’t let the bastard who killed Julie and Bertrand get away with it, can I?”

“Let’s be thorough in our search, then,” Aphrodite suggested. “Which room should we investigate first?”

“The first science lab,” Lisa decided. “I barely had the time to look at it.”

“Okay,” Aphrodite said. “Let’s do that.”

They went back to the science lab. Lisa forced herself to look at the body. No matter how awful, how disgusting it was, she had to find out who was responsible. She held out her monopad and took several pictures.

Julie’s torso had been placed on a table in the middle of the room. Ferdinand’s sword had been thrust in her belly. Both her arms and legs had been cut off, very neatly. Looking closely, it looked like it had been done in a single swing for each limb, probably with a very sharp tool. The culprit must have been a very strong person. There were some bloodstains on the table, hinting that the butcher job had been performed in this very room.

“That’s kinda weird,” Lisa said. “Apart from her severed limbs, she doesn’t have a single injury on her body. But if the culprit sliced her arms and legs, she’d have tried to resist, right?”

“It’s possible she was drugged, or even killed before the culprit butchered her.”

“Oh, makes sense. But then how did she die?”

Aphrodite pointed to the head, placed on a desk next to the window. There was an arrow stuck deeply in it.

“Oh, I see,” Lisa said. “Guess that’s how she died. But wait, how did the culprit manage to plant it so deeply?”

“I found this,” Aphrodite said, holding out Sébastien’s bow. “It was just lying in a corner of the room.”

“Why is Sébastien’s bow in here of all things?”

“No one got rid of his belongings, actually,” Aphrodite explained. “And when Monoblade tossed our stuff in the elevator room, that included the dead’s belongings. I assume Alexander and Roberta’s stuff is still out there.”

“Fuck,” Lisa said. “Julie was cautious enough to lock the torture rooms, but we never even thought the culprit could steal weapons from the dead, huh.”

Lisa went back to her inspection of the room. There was a rather large window which lead into the second science lab, aka Jordana’s prison cell. Jordana was standing in her room on the other side, smiling. A large hole had been cut out in the window.

“Hello!” Jordana said in a sweet voice. “How are we doing today?”

“What… what are you doing?” Lisa asked. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Oh, not very long. I kinda just woke up, actually.”

Lisa blinked. Now that she thought about it, that was very _very_ strange. Julie’s corpse had been cut to pieces right next to Jordana’s room, but the girl had somehow not noticed anything? Unless of course…

“Say, can I get out now?” Jordana asked. “I kinda would like to investigate a bit, if that is alright.”

“Well, sure,” Lisa said. “I don’t have the key to your room, but you can just go through the hole in the window, and leave through the other door.”

“How delightful,” Jordana said, jumping through the whole graciously, blowing a kiss at Lisa as she left.

Lisa jumped inside Jordana’s cell, turning the lights on. The glass shards had fallen on this side of the room; and after inspection, the door was still locked. Lisa investigated for a bit: she found a tray with an empty plate, a stack of blankets which probably served as Jordana’s bed, some clothes. Oddly enough, all the chairs had been removed. All in all, this room wasn’t very suspicious, so she went back to the first science lab.

She kept looking around for a bit, but didn’t find anything else that looked weird. Satisfied, she left to investigate the torture room. Lucien and Typhaine had apparently left, the room was empty.

“Before we investigate this one, I’d like to perform a little experiment,” Aphrodite said.

“What kind?”

“Please close the door. I’ll say something, and you tell me if you can hear.”

Lisa nodded, and closed the door, leaving Aphrodite in the hallway. She waited for a while, but since she couldn’t hear anything, eventually reopened the door.

“Just as I thought,” Aphrodite concluded. “The torture rooms are soundproof.”

“That shouldn’t really surprise us,” Lisa replied with a shrug.

She turned around and began to inspect the body.

“Okay so… I’d like to know what that thing is,” she said, pointing to the weapon that was pinning Bertrand’s corpse to the floor.

It had a wooden handle, the rest was made of steel. It was flat and rather thin, but thicker than a sword.

“I think it’s some kind of file,” Aphrodite said. “It probably comes from the line of tools that are hanged on the wall… yep, look,” she said, pointing to the wall. “There’s a weapon missing. That’s probably our file.”

“Indeed. Geez, this room is a mess. The table has been toppled over, there’s all those bottles on the floor, some scratch marks on the walls… what happened here?”

“It seems like the culprit and the victim fought,” Aphrodite said.

“Which means if we find someone with a bunch of wounds, there’s a high chance that they’re our culprit! Good, good. Okay, let’s keep searching.”

Looking at Bertrand’s corpse was highly disturbing. He who had always looked so calm, so polite, had an air of absolute terror on his face. He had a nasty bruise on his cheek, which reminded Lisa of Roberta. Looking closer, there were plenty of little wounds on his body, including a rather massive one at the back of his head.

“Say, I just had a thought,” Lisa said. “The torture room was supposed to be locked, yeah? How did he get in?”

“I have a few ideas in mind, but we’d better leave them for the trial,” Aphrodite said.

“I guess you’re right.”

Around Bertrand’s body were a bunch of broken bottles. Lisa opened the pharmacy closet, and found that the bottles had probably spilled out from there. Annoyingly, that made it really hard to figure out if any were missing.

“Oh,” Aphrodite said.

“What is it?” Lisa asked, turning around.

Aphrodite was facing a rather large metal locker. She was holding a little bottle.

“Oh, you found something?”

“Indeed, I did,” Aphrodite said. “This little bottle was inside that locker. I think it contains some kind of poison, but I can’t tell what type of poison exactly.”

“This case is getting weirder and weirder by the minute. Does it look like it was used?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Wait a minute,” Lisa said. “I have an experiment to make.”

She grabbed all the bottles that had fallen near Bertrand’s body, and put them inside the little closet, all neatly aligned. That was enough to fill most of the closet, but…

“Ah, here! I think that’s where this bottle was supposed to fit. This closet was definitely full when we investigated it on our first day here.”

“So this bottle somehow moved from the closet to this locker,” Aphrodite resumed. “Okay, I’ll take some notes about this.”

Lisa went to inspect the row of weapons that were hanging from the wall. All looked pretty normal, until-

“Bingo!” She said.

“Hm?”

“This weapon is wet. I think it’s some kind of… circular saw?”

“Oh. It’s looks pretty sharp.”

“Yeah, I don’t really wanna touch it, if I’m honest,” Lisa said.

A sudden doubt occurred to her, so she ran to check the body once more, looking through each of Bertrand’s pockets. They were empty.

“He doesn’t have the key,” she said, sounding almost a little disappointed. “So we can assume he’s not the one who opened the torture room, right?”

“Probably. That leaves the question of what he was doing there, though.”

Lisa and Aphrodite left the torture room, and went back to the elevator room.

“Oh by the way, you didn’t tell me, what happened to Suzie?”

Aphrodite opened her monopad, glad to see that Lucien had shared the picture on the group chat. She showed it to Lisa, who gasped in surprise.

“What the honest fuck?” She yelled. “Is this for real?”

“I had the same reaction when I saw her this morning,” Aphrodite said (although she had in fact remained perfectly calm). “It’s really disturbing.”

“Zoom on her shoulder a bit? Yeah, it’s the same kind of neat cut, like on Julie’s body. I guess this was done by the same person. And that piece of cloth underneath?”

“I don’t know what it is. I guess we should go to the restaurant to check it out.”

And so they went. Magalie and Ferdinand were already there, inspecting the little piece of cloth, which had been under Suzie’s arm.

“What is this thing?” Ferdinand was asking, unfolding it. “Some kind of shirt, I think?”

“It seems to be the case. It’s quite small too.”

“It’s been torn quite brutally. I wonder why?”

Ferdinand laid it out on the floor, and Magalie took a picture with her monopad.

“Hey guys!” Lisa said. “I’d like to hear what you were doing last night.”

“Ah, you’re collecting alibis? It’s probably going to sound boring, but I was in my room, with Jean and Typhaine.”

“What about you Ferd?”

He scratched the back of his head, thoughtfully.

“Though I am ashamed to admit it, I fell asleep on a chair and spent most of the night in this tavern,” he admitted. “I eventually woke up, and came back to my room.”

“And you didn’t see Suzie at all?”

“I did not! Even though it was dark, and my mind was a little clouded with alcohol, I could not have missed her.”

“Hm. Good to hear!”

“If I remember correctly, Ferdinand, you’re the one who brought Jordana her food last night as well?” Aphrodite asked.

“Indeed, I did. Why, is that important?”

“It might be.”

Next, Aphrodite and Lisa went to inspect the offices in the north wing. But Lucien and Typhaine were already on the case.

“We will be taking care of those,” Lucien explained. “You may search elsewhere if you like.”

“First, tell me where you were last night!” Lisa said, raising her fists at her chest’s level.

“I was in my room, with Aphrodite,” Lucien said. “I fell asleep before Bertrand could join us, so I do not know if he ever came to his room.”

Typhaine spoke in turn, merely confirming what Magalie had said.

“Okay, thanks guys,” Lisa said. “Anything else to report?”

“My sleeping pills have been stolen,” Lucien said. “I wonder if this has something to do with the crime?”

“I hope not, because this affair is already far too complicated,” Lisa complained. “But thanks anyway. Okay, let’s roll!”

Lisa ran out of the office and into the hallway, then back into the elevator room, which Ryoji and Bob were busy investigating. Lisa didn’t bother to ask for their alibis, because they had all been sleeping together in room 104, and therefore she already knew what they were going to say.

Entering the eastern wing, they found Jean and Jordana coming out of Bertrand’s room. Jean looked very uncomfortable to be around her (but it was always better than being alone? Maybe?).

“We didn’t find anything suspicious in Bertrand’s room,” Jean said. “I think it’s safe to say it has nothing to do with the crime.”

They really looked sick. Lisa wished she could have helped them, but there was a time limit. She also didn’t need to ask Jean for their alibi, because it had already been confirmed by two people already. Instead she went to the bathroom.

She found Rebecca sitting against the wall, staring off into space. For some reason, she was still wearing her pirate costume from last night.

“Rebecca are you okay?”

“Please, Lisa, not now,” she said. “Leave me alone for a bit.”

“But...”

“I said, leave me alone. Is that so hard to understand?”

She sounded like she was on the verge of tears. Once again, Lisa felt frustrated that she couldn’t help, especially with a trial coming so soon. She backed down slowly, feeling a little sad.

“You found anything, Aphrodite?” She asked.

“Indeed. A pair of glasses, and some brown hair stuck in the drain. It’s quite obvious the shower has been used. But there’s no blood anywhere.”

“Hm. These don’t look like Florian’s glasses, so we can assume they belong to Julie? Aight, let’s take some pictures.”

Lisa’s monopad flashed, and that’s when she noticed something else.

“Is that… a hole in the shower curtain?”

“It would seem like it. I suppose that-”

At this point, the bell rang.

“Hello again, bastards! You’ve been running around for long enough, I think. It’s high time you get your asses to the elevator room! No complaining, or I’ll murder ya!”

The speakers shut off. Lisa sighed.

“It always feels so… incomplete,” she said, sounding disappointed.

“We won the trial last time,” Aphrodite reminded her. “Logic won’t fail us now. Come on, take my hand.”

They walked to the elevator room together. No one seemed particularly joyful, and Lisa couldn’t blame them. Jean especially, looked very paranoid, staring at their classmates suspiciously.

 _At least Ryoji isn’t the prime suspect this time,_ Lisa thought. _I hope Florian won’t freak out on us again though._

The elevator doors opened, and Lisa came in. It was a little less crowded this time, bitterly reminding her of the people who had died.

Julie. The glorious leader, always coming up with new ideas, always fighting for the group’s cohesion. She could be a little forceful, but she was intelligent and caring. And Bertrand, always courteous, always willing to help. His paintings still adorned many of the walls of the facility, making it so much prettier. He had managed to make this cold, dead place a little homier. And now he would never paint again. His talent had been lost.

The doors opened, Lisa walked into the trial room. Three new portraits had been hung at Bertrand, Alexander and Julie’s desks. Eighteen desks for only twelve students. How could this have happened? There was now a gap between Rebecca and Suzie, another one between Jean and Magalie. At least Lisa was still surrounded by Bob and Aphrodite. She would have probably lost her mind if any of them had died.

Suzie was sitting on the floor, back against Monokuma’s throne, wearing the same type of prison outfit that Ryoji and Jordana had worn before. She looked… dead, was the word that came to mind. Her stump had been wrapped into a thick white bandage. Magalie and Lucien asked her if she was all right, but she ignored them and walked toward her desk, her face completely unreadable. Everyone eventually found their place, completing the circle.

“If the kids are ready,” Monoblade said, “then we can begin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bertrand's death portrait: https://imgur.com/a/hO44C0A


	22. Class Trial 2 - Spring Edition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cast of survivors (UPDATED): https://imgur.com/a/S7Q8UOJ

Monoblade didn’t bother rehearsing the rules – no one had forgotten what they were. But Julie wasn’t there to offer the first topic, or to give directions, and thus a certain uneasiness grew among the group. For a while everyone remained in awkward silence.

“Guys,” Suzie said coldly. “We won’t catch the killer if we just stand around doing nothing. Get a grip, damnit.”

“Easy to say,” Jean mumbled. “We just learned that there was a bloody psychopath among us. Hell, I might have had a _bath_ with them.”

“Quit whining and start thinking,” Suzie replied, a little forcefully. “All we gotta do is repeat what we did last time, yeah? Okay, so who was the last person to see Julie alive? That’s me, when we got to our room around 11pm. You all saw us leaving the party.”

“And Aphrodite was the first person to discover the body this morning, right?” Lisa asked.

“Probably not the first, actually,” Aphrodite said. “The body discovery announcement rang as soon as I found her, after all.”

“That is certainly strange,” Lucien said. “Discarding the culprit, has anybody seen Julie’s corpse during the night?”

“Obviously they’re not going to answer the question,” Jordana said. “Because it would make them look very suspicious! Probably for a good reason.”

“Wait, I just realized sum’thin’,” Bob said, eyes wide. “Yer room or… prison or whatev’, it’s right next to the crime scene, yeah? That means you’re a super suspect!”

Jordana rolled her eyes.

“Oh wow, we have a massive brain with us today. I’m sure nobody had thought of that.”

“Dun’t try to dodge the question! Ya were right there, ya coulda easily dunnit. And ‘sides, who else could do somethin' so twisted if not ya?”

Jordana laughed.

“Oh, you flatter me so. Lisa, you mind explaining to Bob how stupid he is?”

“Why are you asking me?” Lisa replied, sounding a little angry.

“Because everyone trusts you, unlike me,” she said with a shrug. “This debate would last forever if I had to make my own case.”

Lisa sighed.

“Okay Bob, here’s a picture of the crime scene,” she said as she turned on her monopad. “The window is broken, as you can see.”

“Yeah! Tha’s todally suspicious, right? Jordana probably broke the window with sum’thin’, and then murdered Julie in the science lab!”

“But look at the shards,” Lisa countered, calmly. “They’re on the wrong side of the window, see? They fell into Jordana’s room, which means whoever broke the window must have been standing in science lab n°1, not her prison.”

“Hold on!” Jean said. “Maybe this is just what she wants you to think!”

“What are you trying to pull?” Florian asked, rolling his eyes.

“It’s not impossible to gather all the shards, and throw them on the other side of the window,” Jean replied, trying to ignore the interruption. “It doesn’t prove Jordana isn’t the one who broke the window.”

“He has a point!” Ferdinand said. “Jordana likes to play mind games, we know this. She predicted we would have this conversation, and made herself _seem_ like the most likely culprit on purpose!”

“That sounds idiotic,” Suzie said.

“It’s not impossible tho, is it?” Bob asked.

“Guys,” Lisa said. “Let’s assume for a moment Jordana _did_ break her window. How did she do it?”

“Huh?” Bob asked. “She uh… prolly used one o’ the chairs, yeah?”

“Wrong,” Suzie said. “You think we’re that stupid? When we locked Jordana in he room, we made sure to remove all the chairs. It’d be pointless to lock her up if she could break a window so easily.”

“Oh, sorry,” Bob said. “I thought I was onto sum’thin’ there.”

“It’s okay bro,” Ryoji said, smiling gently. “Still, who broke the window then? And why?”

“The culprit I assume,” Lisa said. “They were probably planning to frame Jordana for the murder. I guess they didn’t know about the chairs.”

“Which means we can probably rule Suzie out as our culprit,” Magalie said, tapping her chin repeatedly with one finger. “Since she knew about the chairs.”

“But wait,” Ryoji said, “how come Jordana didn’t wake up when the culprit smashed the window? It would have made a ton of noise!”

“Oh, that’s a good point,” Jean said, eyes wide.

“Good job bro!” Bob shouted, throwing a fist in the air.

“Perhaps the culprit used a piece of cloth to muffle the sounds?” Ferdinand suggested.

“How though?” Magalie asked. “They didn’t have the key to Jordana’s room. Well, Suzie had it, but we already ruled her out as the culprit. And even so, it would be pretty risky.”

“The answer is obvious,” Florian said, crossing his arms and smirking. “I cannot believe I have to once more educate you morons on what should be painfully obvious.”

“Oh neat, he woke up,” Jean said. “I missed him sooo much.”

“Shut up,” Florian snapped. “If you have nothing useful to say, be quiet.”

“We’re listening,” Magalie said. “How do you think the culprit did it?”

“I think Jordana was drugged, probably with a sleeping pill,” Florian explained (flashing his glasses like some anime boy). “There was a pharmacy closet in the torture room, right? That’s probably where they found it.”

“But the torture room was locked,” Magalie retorted. “Suzie is the only one who had the key, and we already ruled her out as the culprit! How many times do I have to repeat myself?”

“Then the culprit probably stole the key,” Florian said, in a tone that meant _don’t-bother-me-with-these-technicalities_. “I understand Suzie was attacked?”

“I was,” Suzie said, flatly. “The culprit cut my arm off. Can’t you see the stump, you fucking idiot?”

“Then tell us,” Aphrodite said. “Do you still have the key?”

“I checked my pockets earlier. They key had vanished.”

“What about Monoblade?” Ryoji asked. “Couldn’t he have taken it?”

“I didn’t steal any keys,” Monoblade said. “What the hell would I need it for? I got spares for all the rooms in this facility!”

“A worrying thought,” Ferdinand mumbled.

“See?” Florian said, apparently very proud of himself. “The culprit attacked Suzie and stole her key, then grabbed the sleeping pills from the torture room. It’s very simple. And now we can narrow down the list of suspects by-”

“No, that’s wrong,” Lisa said, shaking her head.

“Wha- You didn’t even let me finish my sentence!” Florian spat, a vein throbbing near his temple.

“Isn’t he just a sweet piece of sunshine?” Jordana commented. “I hope he’s the victim next time, because I’m honestly getting tired of his voice.”

Lisa ignored Jordana and looked at Suzie.

“Suzie, you can read German, right? Can you remind me what type of products are kept in the pharmacy closet in the torture room?”

“Poisons, hard drugs, and common medicine.”

“Right. But sleeping pills are neither or those three. It’s never been a common medicine, because it’s something you need a prescription for!”

Florian looked extremely disappointing in himself.

“But… but then it doesn’t make sense! How did the culprit-”

“There was a much easier solution in fact.” (Florian screeched _“Let me finish my sentences dammit!”_ )

“You are referring to my sleeping pills?” Lucien asked.

“Yup. You said they had been stolen?”

“Indeed, on the day before the murder. It would be reasonable to assume the culprit used those to drug Jordana.”

“I’m a little surprised they didn’t poison me directly,” Jordana said with a smile. “That would have been much faster.”

Everyone took a moment to register Jordana’s words. It was true, after all – anyone could have easily poisoned her food during the previous week. She would have been completely defenseless under those types of attacks.

“Oh my god,” Ryoji whispered. “That’s… that’s horrible. You’ve been in danger this whole time, and it’s our fault.”

“You only realize now?” Jordana asked bitterly. “My situation made me very easy to kill. It would make a murder very difficult to solve, too. None of you even considered that, though, except for Bertrand I heard. But of course, I’m the bad guy here.”

“I’m so sorry,” Ryoji whimpered.

“You are right,” Lucien said. “We were unfair to you.”

“Bullshit,” Jean snarled. “She’s the one who keeps acting like a crazy weirdo, we’re not about to feel bad for her, are we? If Julie hadn’t locked her in, she’d have probably murdered someone already!”

“And besides, Julie and I locked the torture room specifically to protect you,” Suzie added, coldly. “You can’t say we didn’t take your safety into consideration. Now quit whining already.”

“She’s just messing with us,” Jean agreed. “We don’t have to listen to her.”

“Focus, you idiots,” Magalie said, losing her patience. “We’re in the middle of a trial, and you’re arguing like children.”

“It’s clear you’re all helpless without Julie,” Jordana said with a giggle. “Without her, the group’s unity collapses.”

“Oh, shut up you. So, where were we?”

“Lucien’s sleeping pills,” Aphrodite said. “We were saying that the culprit probably stole them to put Jordana to sleep, before they committed the murder.”

“But why go to all that trouble?” Ferdinand asked.

“Was there a specific reason the crime had to take place in the science lab?” Ryoji pondered, staring at his hands.

“Probably to frame Jordana,” Lisa said. “The culprit _did_ break the window after all.”

“Are you sure?” Aphrodite asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m just thinking that it’s strange. If the culprit wanted to frame Jordana for the murder, wouldn’t they have simply strangled Julie? It’s one of the simplest methods for murder that doesn’t require any weapons. And since Jordana was locked into her room, she would have not had access to any weapons of any kind.”

“Uh… you’re right, that _is_ strange,” Lisa admitted.

“So there’s definitely some other reason the murder had to take place in the science lab, yeah?” Bob asked. “We just gotta figure it out!”

“That would be useless,” Florian said, smiling to himself. “I just figured out who the culprit is.”

“Huh?” Bob asked, in utter disbelief. “Really?”

“It is very simple if you use basic logic. Jordana is not the culprit, therefore the culprit had to drug her, to make sure she could not witness the murder. But when was she drugged? During the party, when the culprit went to deliver her lunch.”

“Wait,” Ferdinand said. “Are you-”

“I was in the parking lot at the time, and I saw Ferdinand exiting the restaurant, carrying a tray in his hands. That tray is still in your room, is it not Jordana?”

“Indeed it is!” Jordana said happily. “So you’re saying Ferdinand is the one who drugged me? I tooootally didn’t see it coming!”

“H-hold on a second!” Ferdinand said, beginning to sweat.

“If I recall,” Lucien said, “Ferdinand was quite insistent he should be the one to bring Jordana her plate. Could it be that he had planned to drug her all along?”

“Please, _stop!”_ Ferdinand yelled, pounding his desk with his fists. “I did not kill Julie, I would never-”

“Oh, just admit it already,” Florian replied, crossing his arms. “Your sword was found stuck in the victim’s body, what more proof do we need?”

“Besides,” Lucien added, “Ferdinand was among the rare few who knew about the existence of my sleeping pills. I only mentioned them once, in front of him, Ryoji, Lisa and Bertrand. But two of those have an alibi, and the third is dead.”

“Please!” Ferdinand yelled. “Listen to me!”

“But you have no alibi, do you?” Suzie asked coldly. “Didn’t you say you fell asleep in the restaurant after the party ended? It’s pretty convenient if you think about it.”

Ferdinand wanted to yell something, but he began to tear up. Magalie took his defense.

“Guys, have you lost your wits or something?” She asked angrily. “It’s _Ferdinand_. Shouldn’t you know him a little better by now? He’s simply not that kind of person.”

“So what?” Florian said. “You want to say we should believe in him, when we have all this evidence that condemns him?”

“Remember that you suspected Ryoji for the same reasons last time,” Magalie countered. “How did that turn out for you, huh?”

Florian became paler and closed his mouth.

“Come on guys,” Magalie said. “Ferdinand might be annoying at times, but he has a good heart. There must be another explanation.”

“You can say that,” Jean said. “But… it doesn’t change the fact that there’s a psycho among us. A bastard who enjoys chopping people’s limbs for fun. You’re saying you expected one of us to turn out like this?”

Magalie had no rebuttal. Ferdinand was openly crying at that point. He turned his head toward Lisa, pleading.

“Lisa, please… you believe in me, right? Y-you have to help me, I cannnot d-do this on my own!”

He looked so scared, Lisa felt a violent empathetic reaction, which she had to restrain a little.

“I...”

What could she say? Of course, she wanted to defend him. But did she have enough evidence to clear his name?

“I may have something, but-”

“Ferd,” Magalie said. “I don’t think we have a choice anymore.”

A confused silence fell onto the trial room. Ferdinand turned his head to look at Magalie, apparently unable to understand what she could possibly mean. Then when it clicked, he recoiled visibly.

“No, no, no!” He yelled, eyes wide in panic. “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, don’t ask me-”

“But they’re about to execute you, idiot!” She screamed, slapping him. “You have what it takes to defend yourself, just _say it!”_

“Y-you don’t understand,” Ferdinand said, crying some more. “I can’t, it’s… it’s my whole life...”

“What’s… what’s going on?” Jean asked.

“Do you know something, Magalie?” Lucien asked, his voice deeper than usual.

“It seems like Ferdinand has a secret he cannot reveal,” Jordana said, chuckling. “Hm, does that remind me of a certain motive?”

“Oh,” Bob said. “Tha’s what it means.”

“You can tell us, Ferd!” Ryoji said, softly. “Please, you can trust us, we won’t judge you for it!”

But Ferdinand only shook his head, crying some more. Suzie groaned.

“Magalie, it’s obvious you know something. Just spit it out already.”

“I can’t,” Magalie said, sadly. “He has to find the strength within himself.”

“For fuck’s sake, we don’t have all day!” Suzie was exasperated. “Speak now or we’ll vote for you!”

“No no, don’t start the vote!” Ryoji begged. “Maybe… if we put our heads together, we can guess his secret…?”

“We can try,” Lisa said. “I think… hm. I might be onto something, but-”

“Ferdinand, is there a problem with your eyes?”

Aphrodite had spoken calmly, without a hint of aggression. Ferdinand immediately stopped sobbing.

“...huh?”

“Looks like Aphrodite hit the jackpot!” Jordana said, raising arms in the air.

“But how did you figure it out?” Jean asked, incredulous.

“I’ve suspected it for a while,” Aphrodite replied. “He has a certain way of looking at people like he can’t really see them. There’s also the fact that he can barely go anywhere without Magalie – maybe because he needs her to guide him.”

“Now that I think about it, we never saw Ferdinand displaying his fighting skills at all, did we?” Lucien asked thoughtfully. “I would assume the ultimate knight would be an impressing fighter, but perhaps...”

“Without a proper eyesight, it’s not that he didn’t want to, it’s that he couldn’t,” Suzie completed.

“Yeah, you figured it out,” Magalie admitted, looking at her feet. “Ferdinand’s eyesight is so bad, it’s almost like he’s blind. He could probably not recognize any of your faces in the dark.”

Ferdinand was still crying. Lisa could understand why – his reputation was ruined. He wasn’t really a knight, not in the traditional sense. He couldn’t fight, his sword was probably just a nice accessory. But then…

“Hey, Magalie?” Florian asked. “I have a question for you.”

She crossed her arms and took a deep breath.

“I’m listening.”

“How do we know you’re not lying?”

“Oh my god, you absolute prick!” She snapped, slapping her desk. “Ferdinand is on his knees, _sobbing_ , what else do you fucking need?”

“For all I know you’re just an accomplice to the crime, trying to help your friend,” Florian said, pointing an accusatory finger at her. “But Ferdinand still has no alibi! If no one else can prove that Ferdinand’s eyesight is messed up, then-”

“Monoblade can,” Magalie countered.

“Huh? Somebody calling for me?”

“Yes, sir kidnapper, we need you to reveal Ferdinand’s secret.”

“Oh boy!” He replied, sounding very excited all of a second. “I can’t believe this! You kids are actually asking _me_ to reveal a dirty secret!”

“And hurry up with it,” Suzie added.

“Sure sure! You guys figured it out, Ferdinand’s eyes are busted, because of a bad head wound he got a few years ago. He’s not even the Ultimate Knight! That’s a lie he told you guys on the first day to boost his own ego, but he can’t spar to save his life, and he can’t even ride a horse! Well, to be fair, it’d be really complicated in his state. He’s basically colorblind, and can only see blurry shapes.”

“But wait, if he lied,” Jean began.

“Does that mean he has no ultimate talent at all?” Typhaine screeched in shock.

“Oh no, he does have a talent all right,” Monoblade said, slapping his own belly. “Ferdinand is actually the Ultimate Wanderer. A person who spends his whole time traveling with no real objective, helping people as he goes: that’s who he is. Not such a bad talent all in all, I honestly don’t know why he felt the need to hide it from y’all. Not that I’m complaining, mind you! It’s such a pleasure to ruin someone’s reputation. I feel much better already.”

“I’m sorry,” Ferdinand said, wiping his tears. “I did not mean to deceive you all.”

“It’s okay Ferd,” Ryoji said. “We’re still your friends.”

“Lying is a grave sin,” Lucien said. “But today by admitting your lie, you took a strong step toward the light.”

“Hell, I’m sorry we couldn’t helpchu sooner,” Bob said. “You’re still cool, y’know?”

“You rock, Ferd!” Lisa shouted. “Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise!”

“To think you had to carry that burden on your own,” Jean mumbled. “It was uncool to lie, but I can’t really stay mad at you.”

“See?” Magalie said, gently tapping his shoulder. “I told you they’d accept you anyway.”

“Y-you guys,” Ferdinand said, his voice shaky.

It seemed he wanted to add something, but began to cry again, and was unable to do so.

“Someone should give that poor man a handkerchief,” Jordana commented, inspecting her nails. “I think the Ultimate Crybaby has some snot stuck in his moustache.”

While Magalie took care of cleaning her friend’s face, Florian restarted the conversation.

“All right, we have this new information, which means that Magalie definitely isn’t lying.” (He sighed) “But still...”

He sounded unsure of what he was about to say next.

“Still, what does that change? He could have still stolen the sleeping pills from Lucien, couldn’t he?”

“I cannot read,” Ferdinand admitted. “Unless the letters are really huge, like… painted on a big wall or something. Otherwise, I cannot make out the little letters.”

He sounded very sad, and somewhere, Ryoji whimpered in empathy.

“But uh...” Florian began.

“Seriously Flo, give it up,” Lisa said. “It’s obvious he couldn’t do it.”

“I have more than one type of medicine, in case you were wondering,” Lucien said. “In order to get the right one, Ferdinand would have to read the label. End of the discussion.”

“Fine, fine,” Florian said, sounding defeated and tired. “I’m sorry I messed up again. But then… who did it?”

He was looking much more hesitant now. Lisa pondered for a while.

“We now know that Ferdinand isn’t the one who slipped the sleeping pills in Jordana’s food. So logically, someone must have done it before Ferdinand left with the tray. Who was in charge of making the food?”

“It was Julie,” Suzie replied. “But I doubt she’d plan out her own execution.”

“Hm. Okay then, who was around when Ferdinand left with the tray? I don’t think I noticed him leaving at all.”

“He used the kitchen’s back door,” Lucien explained.

“At the time, Bertrand, Lucien, Julie, Ferdinand and I were in the kitchen,” Aphrodite explained.

“So four suspects in total,” Bob summarized. “Good, we’re making progress!”

“Not four suspects,” Lisa replied, shaking her head. “We can already determine who the culprit is.”

“Say what? Already?”

“ _Déjà vu_ ,” Jordana commented.

“Think about it,” Lisa said. “Who knew about the sleeping pills in the first place? Me, Ryoji, Bertrand and Ferdinand. And who was in the kitchen when Ferdinand carried the tray? Ferdinand, Bertrand, Lucien, Aphodite, and Julie. So the only two people who could have committed this murder are Ferdinand and Bertrand, but Ferdinand’s eyesight gives him an alibi.”

“So Bertrand is the only one who could have murdered Julie” Aphrodite whispered.

“Eh?” Jean asked, frowning. “But he’s dead!”

“What a pity,” Jordana commented. “He isn’t here to defend himself! I’m sure that would have been rather entertaining.”

“Bertrand wouldn’t do something like this,” Typhaine protested weakly. “He was such a nice guy, always good with everyone. He couldn’t do something so horrible to Julie!”

“I admit that I still have no idea _why_ he did it,” Lisa said. “But there’s no changing the facts. Bertrand murdered Julie, and then someone else murdered him.”

“Weird,” Florian commented. “I didn’t expect there would be two different killers.”

“It’s not that strange,” Aphrodite replied. “When you look at how the corpses were treated, the modus operandi doesn’t match at all.”

“Seriously… I’m kinda pissed,” Bob said, clenching his fist. “All this talkin’, but what was it for? Nothin’.”

“We caught the wrong culprit, go us,” Magalie said sarcastically.

“It wasn’t for nothing,” Suzie countered. “For the sake of Julie’s memory, we _had_ to solve her murder, so she could rest in peace.”

“But we can’t stop now,” Aphrodite said. “We have to continue searching, until all the mysteries are solved. For one thing, we still don’t know how Bertrand managed to get inside the torture room.”

“Wait, I have two questions before we proceed,” Lisa said. “I managed to collect most of the alibis while I was doing my investigation, but I’m missing two. Suzie and Rebecca, what were you doing last night?”

“For a while I was in my room with Julie,” Suzie said, flatly. “We didn’t go to bed right away, and spent a while chatting instead. At some point she left, though I don’t really know where she went. I was feeling a little hungry, so I went to the restaurant, and that’s when I was attacked.”

“We never asked you, but… you didn’t happen to see your attacker, did you?” Jean asked.

“Of course not, I would have told you right away. I was hit from behind, and fell unconscious immediately. I assume that’s when the culprit stole the keys I was carrying, and butchered me.”

“I see,” Lisa said, tapping notes rapidly on her monopad. “What about you Rebecca?”

Rebecca had remained silent during the whole trial. It looked like she hadn’t even been listening.

“Rebecca, are you okay?” Typhaine (her desk neighbor) asked worryingly.

“I’m fine,” Rebecca said, sounding… (Angry? Scared? Tired? All at once?). “I don’t have an alibi though.”

“Just tell us where you were,” Lisa asked. “Maybe we’ll find some evidence to corroborate you.”

“Sure,” she said, shrugging. “I was in the water room. I couldn’t sleep, so I went to take a swim. I remained in the bath for most of the night, and then I went back to my room at around 4am.”

Lisa and Aphrodite exchanged a concerned glance. Bob noticed it, and frowned.

“What is it you two? Figured something out?”

“I was thinking,” Lisa said. “We never really cleared where Julie’s murder has taken place, did we?”

“Huh? It wasn’t in the science lab?”

Bob was looking even more confused now, blinking repeatedly at the duo.

“But weren’t there some blood stains on the tables in the science lab?” Suzie asked with a frown.

“It is possible that Julie’s limbs were severed in the science lab, but she was killed elsewhere,” Aphrodite stated.

“But… why?” Typhaine asked, sounding uncertain. “What would be the point in doing something so weird?”

“Regardless, we found Julie’s glasses in the water room,” Lisa explained. “Along with some brown hair stuck in the drain.”

“Julie is not the only person with brown hair, however,” Lucien noted.

“No, but most of us had our hair dyed that day, remember? For the party!”

“But doesn’t it wash off in the water?” Ryoji asked.

“Uh… oh, actually you’re right.”

Aphrodite was sharing something with her monopad. Soon the picture of Sébastien’s bow appeared on every screen.

“You all recall that Julie had an arrow stuck in her head? I think the culprit borrowed Sébastien’s bow from the pile in the elevator room, and shot Julie as she was having a shower. And as you can see,” (she shared another photo with the group) “there was a little hole in the shower curtain. Its size matches the arrow’s width.”

“I knew I made the right call by not tossing this thing,” Monoblade said, giggling. “Oh this is making me very happy indeed.”

“Wait,” Florian said. “What about the blood? If Julie was killed in the shower room, why wasn’t there any blood?”

“How do you know there was no blood in the shower room?” Jordana asked curiously.

“Because I investigated it, of course.”

“You actually _investigated?”_ She asked, pretending to be surprised. “I thought all you were good for was moping and spouting _idio_ _t_ _ie_. What a shock this is!”

Judging from his face, the comment seemed to hurt Florian quite a lot. Lisa answered his question anyway, ignoring the interruption (again).

“The shower was still on when Julie died, so it would have naturally washed off the blood.”

“A professional detective could have used some luminol testing fluid to scan the floor and walls for traces of blood,” Aphrodite added, “but since we don’t have any, let’s just hope our theory is correct and move on.”

“Okay, so Julie died in the shower, and was then moved to the science lab, because Bertrand wanted to frame Jordana,” Ryoji summarized.

Then it seemed to hit him.

“But then Rebecca, why didn’t you…?”

Rebecca’s face was unreadable.

“Could it be?” Lucien asked, raising his arms and gazing at the sky. “Could she have witnessed the murder, and kept quiet about it?”

“That’s super, super suspicious!” Typhaine squeaked, getting as far from Rebecca as she could.

“But Rebecca, why would you lie?” Ryoji asked, sadly. “Don’t you trust us?”

Rebecca didn’t reply.

“Yo Rebecca, say sum’thin’,” Bob ordered, snapping his fingers. “Wake up, wha’s wrong with you?”

“I don’t know,” Rebecca replied vaguely. “Maybe you’re wrong about Julie being killed in the water room? For all you know, that hole in the curtain had always been there, she forgot her glasses a day before that, and the brown hair belonged to me.”

“Oh no, you won’t get away that easily,” Jordana replied, singing the words and giggling. “Remember that you have no alibi for that niiiiiight.”

“Why am I even being suspected?” She asked in a raspy voice. “I couldn’t get into the torture room.”

“But Bertrand could,” Aphrodite countered. “Having just murdered Julie, he could have easily stolen her key, and opened the torture room himself. From there, it would have been easy to follow him inside.”

“And remember how he was killed?” Jordana added. “It would take a very strong person to murder him that way. Being an athlete, it would be no problem for you, Rebecca darling.”

“I can’t help but feel like we’re repeating our past mistakes again,” Magalie commented, arms crossed. “Last time too we suspected Rebecca because of her arm strength, but we were wrong.”

“Irrelevant,” Jordana replied, doing a little hand gesture which evoked a person chasing a fly. “The two cases are entirely different. Last time it was about acquiring an item which might have been the murder weapon, this time it’s the modus operandi itself.”

Rebecca looked crushed, and like she was about to start crying. Lisa wanted to run from her desk and hug her, but she was a little afraid.

 _What if she really did it? I don’t want to doubt her, but she’s been acting strange._ _What is she hiding?_

“Whatever’s going on, you’re still suspicious,” Florian said. “Go on, out with it, or we’ll never get anywhere.”

“Rebecca,” Ryoji pleaded. “Please speak to us! Even if you feel like there’s no way to save you, I’ll always believe in my friends. So please-”

“Why would you believe in me?” Rebecca asked, finally tearing up. “They’re right, you know. I killed Bertrand. It’s me.”

Silence fell on the trial room, as everyone turned to look at Rebecca.

“This trial can end. I’m the culprit.”


	23. Class Trial 2 - Winter Edition

“W-what?” Ryoji asked, looking like he had been hit. “Impossible!”

“I knew it,” Jordana said. “You have this look in your eye – I know a guilty person when I see one.”

“What happened?” Bob asked, sounding extremely disappointed.

“I-I’ll explain everything,” Rebecca said, her voice shaking.

She took a deep breath, and began to speak, regaining some of her cool.

“You were right. I was in the water room when Bertrand murdered Julie. It’s just like you said: he was carrying a bow, and killed her while she took her shower. She didn’t even scream.”

Rebecca’s voice briefly faltered, but then she resumed her speech.

“I was hiding in the toilets at the time. I was terrified. I knew that if he saw me it would be the end, so I closed the door and held my breath. I tried to be as quiet as I could be. I don’t know for how long I remained there, honestly. At any moment I expected the door to slam open, and him to be standing there, ready to murder me.”

“A frightened little rat,” Jordana hummed.

“Yeah, pretty much. But he didn’t see me, and he didn’t open the door. So eventually I left the bathroom. I was scared, but… I had to figure out what was going on. My brain was fuzzy, I couldn’t exactly register what I had seen, so I began to search the facility. Eventually I reached the torture room. The door was ajar. I knew he’d be in there. Without thinking, I came in.”

“What was he doing?” Ryoji asked, totally engrossed in the story.

“He was looking through the pharmacy closet,” Rebecca explained. “I think I yelled something. I wanted to know what was going on, and what he was doing.”

“And thus began the fight,” Lucien guessed.

“Not right away,” Rebecca corrected. “He was… he was not doing good.”

“What a scoop right there,” Jordana said. “He had murdered someone, yet he wasn’t feeling great? How strange!”

“He was shaking,” Rebecca continued, as if she hadn’t heard anything. “I had seen him like that before, but never this bad. At the time I had thought it was the cold.”

She let out a heartless chuckle.

“Yeah, the cold, of course. I was _stupid_. Bertrand was a drug addict.”

“What?” Jean screamed. Then again, louder: _“What?”_

“He began to confess his crime right in front of me,” Rebecca said. “He tried to explain himself, but I didn’t understand much of it, it was very confusing.”

Monoblade laughed.

“I feel like I must interrupt you there. Now that the trial has reached this point, it’s my duty to clear things up a bit, no?”

“Do what you want,” Rebecca said, sounding defeated.

“See, Bertrand’s father was a horrible man,” Monoblade said, cackling with delight. “A vicious, disgusting drunkard. Some rumors said he was even responsible for his wife’s death! Now our good Bertrand, he was really afraid to end up like his father, obviously. He worked harder than anyone to build his own character, to make himself good, polished, _civilized_ , so that people would never compare him with his disgusting, disgusting father! But well, it seems he hung out with the wrong kind of people. Not everyone handles drugs so bad, but _boy_ did he go all out, that one. His beautiful self-image was almost destroyed back then: violence, insults, depravity, he did it all.”

“That’s impossible,” Typhaine said meekly. “He wasn’t like that, he wasn’t...”

“Let’s just say that with the GTU’s acceptance letter, he started to feel a little hopeful again. New people to meet, a new life ahead of him, some recognition for his talent, a way to escape from his toxic family… perhaps he could get some help and finally fix his life for good, ey? And that’s when I come in… with my motives, and my little secrets.”

“Oh my god,” Ryoji said.

“You absolute bastard!” Jean yelled in shock and anger.

“So he was your target all along,” Aphrodite said, frowning.

“Let’s just say I had high hopes for him,” Monoblade replied with a giggle. “With or without my help, he was losing it anyway. Packs of MDMA available in the torture rooms, and Julie wouldn’t let him in? It’s honestly impressive he managed to keep himself together for so long.”

“But why?” Ferdinand asked, crying again. “If only he had confessed, we could have helped him...”

“Oho, _ça c’est l’hôpital qui se fout de la charité!”_ Monoblade shouted. “So rich coming from you, Ferdinand.”

“That’s… so not okay,” Magalie grumbled. “None of this is fine.”

“We have yet to hear the end of Rebecca’s story,” Lucien reminded them.

“There’s not much else to tell,” Rebecca said, twitching her hands in anguish. “He eventually snapped, and tried to kill me too, with his bare hands. I...”

Her hands were shaking too. It seemed like she had something stuck in her throat.

“I didn’t want to do it!” She screamed. “I wanted to help him, but I was scared, I was _so_ scared, I couldn’t do anything, and I killed him! I fought back, I hit him again and again, and he fell and then he stopped moving. And there was blood, and I panicked, and I was so scared, I ran away, but he’s dead! He’s really dead! I killed him and there’s nothing I can do about it!”

Unable to say anything more, she burst into a fit of uncontrollable sobs. Lisa ran to give her a hug. Her heart felt heavy, and she could barely hold back her own tears. Everyone looked either sad or uncomfortable.

“That’s… that’s the truth?” Jean asked, incredulous. “It’s just going to end like this?”

“It’s not fair,” Ryoji sobbed. “She was just trying to defend herself!”

“But you gotta vote for someone,” Monoblade replied with another laugh. “A culprit is a culprit, self-defense isn’t an excuse!”

“How delightfully twisted,” Jordana commented. “Not that I expected anything else, coming from you.”

“What are we going to do?” Typhaine asked. “We really have to do it?”

“It seems like it,” Suzie said with a concerned glance at Rebecca.

“If we must save ourselves...” Lucien began.

“Guys, stop,” Lisa said. “It’s not over.”

“What d’you mean?” Bob asked, sounding hopeful.

“Rebecca, please, can you look at me?” Lisa asked, cupping Rebecca’s face with her hands.

“What is it?”

“I would like you to tell me how you killed Bertrand, please. It’s very important.”

“Huh? O-okay.”

Lisa went back to her desk, and Rebecca rubbed her teary eyes.

“I just punched him a bunch of times,” she explained, with a nervous giggle. “Eventually he just… stopped moving.”

Silence.

“Is she making fun of us?” Jordana asked.

“I… uh...” Florian stammered.

“Are you absolutely sure?” Magalie asked, frowning.

“Yeah, I am,” Rebecca said. “I can show you the wounds on my fists if you like… why?”

“Rebecca, did you even _see_ the crime scene?” Lisa asked.

“Huh? No, I didn’t investigate. It felt a little useless, since I know that-”

“Rebecca, look at the pictures,” Lisa ordered.

Puzzled, Rebecca did as she was told. Her mouth opened wide.

“What?” She screamed. “Who, what-”

“So you didn’t do it?” Ryoji screamed.

“No, no, I never- I never used the file!”

“That’s a relief,” Aphrodite commented.

“Thank goodness!” Jean said, making a prayer gesture and staring at the ceiling.

“Hold on,” Jordana said. “That’s suspicious at best. For all we know she could be lying right now.”

“I agree,” Suzie said. “It’s dangerous to trust her testimony so easily.”

“But guys,” Lisa said. “Open your eyes. What is Rebecca wearing?”

“Some kind of… pirate costume,” Jordana said. “Oh.”

She seemed to suddenly remember the party.

“I see!” Ryoji shouted, jumping a little in excitement. “If Rebecca had been the culprit, then there’d be blood on her costume!”

“Huh?” Rebecca asked, in utter disbelief.

“Oh geez, I feel bad for doubting you, Becca,” Bob said, adjusting his beanie. “Thousand ‘pologies.”

“I’m not…? I didn’t kill him?”

She fell to her knees, putting both hands on her heart, then sat against her desk. She was crying again.

“I think we should give her a moment,” Lisa said.

“I admit I am quite puzzled.” (Jordana). “I didn’t expect this turn of events.”

“But shit, if it’s not Rebecca, then who is it?” Magalie asked.

“Maybe we should try to review what we have deduced so far,” Aphrodite suggested. “Maybe a new clue will turn up.”

“Oh please no,” Jordana said, putting a hand on her face. “That’d be so boring.”

Ferdinand cleared his throat.

“May I ask a simple question?”

“Shoot,” Bob said (making gun gestures to accompany his words).

“Julie’s limbs were cut down, right? Did we ever… establish what tool the culprit used?”

“Wasn’t it your sword?” Jean asked.

“No, no, that is impossible my friend.”

“And why is that?” Florian asked.

“I do not have a reason to hide it any longer,” Ferdinand said, putting both hands on his hips. “My sword is not a real sword, similarly to how I am not a real knight. It is a replica – quite a good one, might I add. But it is not sharp at all. The best you could do with it is hitting someone repeatedly with the pommel.”

Lisa took a moment to register what Ferdinand had said. But all things said and done, it wasn’t exactly surprising.

“Uuuuh,” Bob said. “Uuuuh wait whut?”

“So the sword was merely a decoy,” Jordana said. “Hm, interesting.”

“Anyone has any idea what the actual weapon was?” Lucien asked.

“It’s kinda hard to tell,” Ferdinand said. “It would have to be pretty long, would it not? Or the culprit would not have much in terms of swinging power.”

“So we can discard the kitchen knives?” Suzie asked.

“But what else was there?” Jean asked.

“Oh, I know!” Ryoji said. “The culprit might have used one of the tools from the torture room!”

“I agree,” Lisa said. “When I inspected them, I found a circular saw with some water on it. I assume the culprit washed it after cutting Julie and Suzie’s limbs. There were plenty of sinks in the facility to choose from.”

“But wait... isn’t it weird?” Ryoji asked, very slowly, frowning intensely. “Because from what we deduced, Bertrand murdered Julie, cut off her limbs, then he stole her key and walked inside the torture room, where he met with Rebecca. But… if he only found the weapon then, how did he...”

He trailed off, and didn’t finish his sentence. It seemed he had recalled the state in which Julie’s corpse had been, and was trying not to puke.

“We get the idea,” Aphrodite said. “There’s an inconsistency somewhere, which means we have to rethink our theory.”

“Hey Becca, didja see Bertrand unlocking the torture room?” Bob asked, scratching his head.

Rebecca got back up, slowly, and shook her head.

“Okay, so it’s possible that Bertrand walked into the torture room twice, yeah?” Bob asked. “Once to get the saw, the second to get the drugs.”

“That seems weird though,” Magalie replied. “According to Monoblade, he had been deprived for a long time. Wouldn’t he have jumped on the opportunity?”

“And why did he need to cut Julie’s limbs in the first place?” Ferdinand asked, looking disgusted. “It makes no sense! I hoped his secret would shed some light on this mystery, but...”

Lisa’s eyes shot wide. She had just figured something out, and suddenly her heart was beating fast.

“Guys, we’re so stupid! We should have just- argh, why didn’t I think of this sooner? It’s all clear now!”

“Care to fill us in?” Magalie asked. “I’m kinda lost at this point.”

“When me and Aphrodite investigated the torture room, we found a little bottle in the big locker,” Lisa explained. “Now, Rebecca, I have a few extra questions for you, and I’ll tell you who my suspect is, okay?”

“Fine,” Rebecca replied.

“Yes please,” Florian added, bitterly. “Enlighten us.”

“He’s _so_ jealous,” Jordana said with a giggle.

“Rebecca, when you entered the torture room, could you see the pharmacy closet?”

“Kinda? I didn’t really pay attention to it at the time.”

“What was Bertrand doing?”

“He was looking at the labels on the bottles, then putting them back on the shelf.”

“So he didn’t move a bottle by himself anywhere in the room?”

“No, he didn’t. The bottles fell on the floor when we fought, I slammed his head against the closet pretty hard.”

“Okay. And after the fight, did you look into the closet?”

“No, not really. I ran away in shame, and didn’t look back. Why?”

“It’s possible that there was another person in the room with you at the time, hiding in the locker all along!”

“What? But… what would they be doing there?” Rebecca asked, sounding more and more confused.

“I don’t know yet,” Lisa admitted. “But a bottle definitely moved during the night, from the pharmacy closet to the locker. A locker may I remind you, big enough for somebody to hide into.”

“But who?” Typhaine asked. “Who would hide in there?”

“The person who stole the key from Suzie!” Jean shouted. “That must be it, right?”

“But the person who stole the key from Suzie already had the circular saw with them,” Lisa replied. “It would make no sense to knock her out, take her key, go to the torture room and then come back into the restaurant just to cut her arm, and then leave her like that.”

“But none of this makes sense anyway,” Florian complained.

“What if I told you there was a way for everything to make sense?” Lisa asked, her eyes lighting up with excitement.

“Sure, be my guest.”

“It’s going to sound a little crazy, so bear with me okay? So, here’s how it goes. Though we now know for certain that Bertrand killed Julie, I don’t think he’s the one who severed her limbs.”

“You’re saying someone else did it?” Aphrodite asked. “What for?”

“To clear themselves of suspicion,” Lisa said. “After all, there’s only one other person who has the key to the torture room, right?”

Suzie’s eyes narrowed.

“Out of all the stupid things I heard today, this one probably deserves an award. You’re saying I took a circular saw, cut off my best friend’s limbs, one by one, all for what?”

“Not only that, but you cut off your own arm as well.”

“WHAT THE FUCK?” Jean yelled.

“No, that makes no sense,” Magalie added, shaking her head furiously. “I can’t believe it.”

“But think about it,” Lisa said. “Suzie has no alibi for that night. She was briefly with Julie, then they split up, and we only have her word for what happened after that.”

“Ferdinand has no alibi either,” Suzie countered. “He could have easily attacked me in the restaurant, stolen my key, and grabbed the saw from the torture room.”

“No, he couldn’t,” Lisa replied. “Because he wouldn’t even be able to recognize your face!”

Suzie groaned in frustration.

“That’s just bullshit. Ferdinand can recognize my voice.”

“But you were on your own at the time,” Lisa countered, right away. “Who would you be talking to? Besides, it’s just stupid. Ferdinand was drunk, you think he could have cut your arms so neatly? The cuts were perfect.”

“That uh… is a good point actually,” Florian commented. “I feel like someone should have brought it up sooner.”

“That’s just stupid!” Suzie shouted through gritted teeth. “I’m a _victim_ here! Why am I being suspected?”

“No matter what you say Lisa, it seems a bit unnatural to me,” Aphrodite added. “Would she really go that far?”

“And you’ve forgotten Bertrand’s cause of death,” Suzie added. “The file went all the way through his stomach, and even a few inches through the floorboards! In what world am I strong enough to do that?”

“Not to mention, what would her motive be?” Jordana asked.

“Lisa, maybe you should back down on this one for a bit,” Bob mumbled, sounding a little embarrassed.

“No, I won’t back down,” Lisa said. “Because I can explain those too.”

“You… you really can?”

“Julie and Suzie were really close, that should be obvious to any of us, right? Assuming Suzie was hiding in the locker, she heard Bertrand confessing to Julie’s murder. How do you think she reacted? Revenge could be her motive. There’s plenty of reports of weak people suddenly pulling off impressive feats when under high pressure, stress, or anger.”

“That’s just complete and utter bullshit!” Suzie yelled. “Your case makes no sense at all!”

“Then pray tell, who murdered Bertrand?” Lisa asked, calmly.

“You could have, for all I know!”

“Nope,” Lisa said. “Bob can vouch for me and Ryoji, we both fell asleep before he did.”

“True, Bob can,” Bob said. “But geez, oh god, oh dear, what the fuck is going on.”

“Then how do I know Bob didn’t do it?” Suzie screamed, almost breaking her voice in the process.

“Simple,” Lisa replied. “He had no way to guess where you would be. How would he have stolen your key?”

“He could have simply followed me,” Suzie replied.

“You would have heard his footsteps on the sand, as he crossed the parking lot.”

“Maybe he just...”

Suzie was getting more and more flustured, she was moving her arms a lot, slamming her own desk angrily as she looked for the right words.

“Maybe he just waited until I reached the restaurant’s door,” she said, a little bit more quietly.

“In that case, you would already be on your way back when he reached the restaurant. But you claim the culprit attacked you from behind!”

“Maybe I was taking my time,” Suzie shouted, exasperated.

“Then he would have attacked you in the kitchen,” Lisa replied. “But we found you in the restaurant.”

“What if he moved my body?”

“What for?”

Suzie seemed to think, but couldn’t find any reason.

“Yeah, well- maybe he just stole the key during the party.”

She seemed to have a hard time breathing at this point, but Lisa wasn’t done.

“You were wearing your costume at the time, which doesn’t have any pockets. Besides, if he somehow managed to steal your key during the party, what would be the point of coming back to assault you at night?”

Suzie seemed to want to answer something, but ran out of words, so instead she screamed in frustration.

“Guys, can’t you see it? Lisa has lost it, she’s… completely mad, mad, MAD! Listen to me damnit, I’m not the fucking killer!”

Everyone seemed a little bewildered by the very intense dialog which had just taken place between Suzie and Lisa; in fact, both were out of breath by that point.

“Clarify this point for me Lisa,” Jordana said, serenely. “Assuming Suzie cut off her own arm, when was she at the time?”

“In the first science lab,” Lisa replied, exhausted. “There were so many bloodstains in there, we wouldn’t notice an extra one.”

“Aha!” Suzie Laughed, sounding a little creepy as she did. “So then you’re saying I walked on my own until I reached the restaurant? And then just… lied down, waiting for time to pass?”

“You probably just collapsed from anemia at some point, but yeah that’s my point,” Lisa said. “Why?”

“’Why’ she says.” (Suzie was laughing some more). “Why, do you ask? What about my blood then? There should have been blood everywhere! In the hallway, in the parking lot, a whole track of blood in fact! But was there any blood in fact? No, not a single drop!”

Lisa coughed, and tried to regain her composure. She then coughed again.

“That’s not much of a rebuttal,” Ryoji mumbled.

He was looking at the photo Lucien had taken of Suzie’s body.

“There’s clearly a piece of cloth there. It looks a little bloody too. You could have used it to prevent the blood from dripping on the floor.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was about to say,” Lisa said. “I think this is Bertrand’s shirt, in fact.”

“Oh,” Aphrodite said. “So that’s why he was shirtless when we found him during our investigation.”

“It’s still a little hard to believe,” Magalie said. “This all seems a little far-fetched. Are we sure there’s no other possibility?”

“A little far-fetched?” Suzie echoed in a hollow voice. “It’s completely mental! Delirious!”

“Use the process of elimination,” Lisa replied. “Magalie, Jean, Typhaine, Lucien, Aphrodite, Bob, Ryoji and I were all in our rooms that night: and none of us were alone either. Rebecca can’t be the culprit because her clothes aren’t stained with blood, and -”

“She could have just washed her clothes!” Suzie yelled in a very high-pitched tone.

“Why though?” Lisa asked. “If she jumped into the basin like this, she’d still be a little damp, even now. If she took off her costume to clean it, why put it back on afterwards?”

Suzie didn’t have anything to retort, so Lisa resumed.

“As I was saying. Rebecca is ruled out because of the blood, Ferdinand’s eyesight disqualifies him, Julie is dead, Bertrand is dead, Jordana was in her cell.”

“But Florian has no alibi!” Suzie roared. “We don’t even know where he has been sleeping this whole time!”

Lisa blinked.

“It’s true, he doesn’t, huh. I had kinda forgotten all about him.”

“Seriously?” Florian asked, rolling his eyes.

“Still, he doesn’t have the key to the torture room,” Lisa reminded Suzie. “And no motive either.”

“You don’t know where he was that night!” Suzie replied, proudly pointing her finger at Lisa. “He could have been in the restaurant, waiting to ambush me!”

“Okay. Let’s assume that for a moment. For some reason, Florian saw you come into the restaurant at night, punched you strong enough to stun you, then stole your key and went to the torture room. That still doesn’t really explain why he would need to murder Bertrand in such a violent way, but let’s assume he did it anyway. Let’s assume he grabbed the circular saw and had fun butchering Julie’s body for a little bit. Then let’s assume he went back to the restaurant, despite having Bertrand’s body closer at hand, and cut off your arm just for a little joke. That doesn’t explain Bertrand’s shirt either, be we’re making a lot of hasty assumptions, right? What do you conclude from this scenario?”

“That we’ve been in this trial room for too long,” Jean said, burying their face in their hands. “I’m losing my mind over here.”

“We learn that Florian has some weirdo butchering people kink?” Bob suggested.

“Exactly, thanks Bob! Now, if that were the case, and I were a certain Monoblade, I would probably want to blackmail Florian using motive day, right? I would want to force him to murder someone by risking to expose his butchering kink in front of his friends, yeah?”

“Except we are not friends, but I get your point,” Florian said, rolling his eyes.

“It’s not… implausible,” Suzie said, sounding very insecure all of a second.

“It’s very easy to verify,” Lisa said. “Florian, can you hand over your monopad please?”

Florian raised his eyebrows.

“I see. Hm. Well, if it’ll save my life, I might as well.”

Then Florian began to read his “dark secret” out loud. It was a very embarrassing memory of a day where he had peed himself at the supermarket when he was twelve.

“In conclusion, no butchering kink,” he said once he was done reading.

Lisa noticed that he was blushing a little, despite his attempt to remain cool about it.

“Now I know this isn’t exactly hard evidence,” Lisa said. “But I doubt Florian would suddenly develop a butchering kink in just a few days, so-”

“It’s the killing game!” Suzie screamed. “It made him mad!”

“Dear god, how stubborn,” Jordana said. “This is taking forever.”

“Say Suzie,” Lisa said. “As the prime suspect, you mind handing over your own monopad?”

Suzie didn’t say anything for a little while, her expression absolutely unreadable.

“I don’t currently have it,” she eventually said, in a completely flat tone of voice.

“No, because I do!” Monoblade said cheerfully.

Suzie let out a little scream.

“Give that monopad to us!” Lisa ordered.

“Should I?” Monoblade asked himself, tapping his chin with his hand.

“It’s part of the evidence at this point,” Aphrodite said. “Evidence that you removed from the crime scene, might I add. But if I recall, there is a rule that stipulates you can’t alter the crime scenes in any way. You can’t assist a murderer either.”

“Fuck,” Monoblade said. “She got me there. Guess I have to give it to you kids then.”

He tossed the monopad, and Lisa caught it. Suzie was yelling something, but Lisa ignored her. She opened the secret file, and read it out loud.

[Suzie’s dark secret: Suzie suffers from congenital insensivity to pain (also known as congenital analgesia). It is a very rare and dangerous condition, preventing the subject from feeling any sense of pain, despite retaining the sense of touch.]

Thirty-five words, more efficient at condemning Suzie than anything Lisa had said in the last hours. Suddenly she felt very bad, maybe because she knew it was the end of the road, and was beginning to realize what she had done. Suzie was going to die, Monoblade would execute her. And it would be partially Lisa’s fault. In the heat of the ‘battle’ she had managed to keep the thought at bay, but…

_She has killed Bertrand, who has killed Julie, and now she’s going to die too. What a waste._

“No, no, no...” Suzie was saying, very quietly. “Why did you have to read that? Mine, mine, it’s all mine.”

“Even now she won’t admit it,” Florian said in disbelief. “What do we do?”

“I think I’ll just...” Lisa trailed off. “Review what we know, from the beginning. See if there are any flaws in our reasoning, and then we can vote. Works for you guys?”

“Yeah, do it,” Jean replied, nodding in ascent.

“Please,” Ryoji added.

“It seems fair,” Lucien conceded.

“Right. So this affair began when Bertrand stole Lucien’s sleeping pills, and hid it in Jordana’s food. Ferdinand brought the plate, and Jordana fell into big sleep, while the party continued in the restaurant. Eventually, once everyone had left, Bertrand stole Ferdinand’s sword and placed it in the science lab, then grabbed Sébastien’s bow from the elevator room, before attacking Julie in the shower. I think him and Suzie must have very narrowly missed each other. If they hadn’t, the whole thing would have happened very differently.”

Lisa closed her eyes, and resumed.

“Suzie went into the torture room, probably locking it behind herself…?”

Suzie mumbled a “yes”, and Lisa continued.

“The torture room being soundproof, and not containing any windows, Suzie had absolutely no way of knowing what was going on in the hallway or beyond. She grabbed a little bottle of poison from...”

Lisa’s voice trailed of again. She had just figured out something – one of the last pieces of the puzzle, something which had been bugging her for a while.

“You weren’t planning a murder, were you?” She asked in a hollow voice. “You were considering a suicide.”

The room fell silent. Everyone looked at Suzie, who was laughing.

“If only I had just swallowed that poison, this whole affair would have been much simpler, huh?”

Lisa didn’t have the courage to answer, nor to ask what had been going on. She resumed her summary.

“So that’s… where Suzie was. Meanwhile, Bertrand was shooting Julie in the head. The water room was lit at all times, he could probably make our her shape through the curtain. Rebecca witnessed the murder, and hid in the toilet, while Bertrand grabbed Julie’s body and her clothes, forgetting her glasses behind. I think he dressed up her corpse out of respect? That’s the kind of man he was after all. He might have even dried her before that. Anyway, the shower probably washed up the blood, so he didn’t have to worry about leaving evidence behind. He then moved to the science lab, placed her body on the table, the bow in a corner of the room, and planted Ferdinand’s sword in Julie’s belly, to make it look like Ferdinand was the culprit. Next he grabbed… I assume a chair, and smashed the window with it. The point was to frame Jordana – with two ways of misdirecting our attention, he probably thought we wouldn’t catch him.”

“Then he stole Julie’s key, and went into the torture room. Hearing a key in the lock, Suzie panicked and hid in the locker, holding onto the bottle she had been holding. Bertrand entered the room, looking through the pharmacy closet. Rebecca soon came after him, they had a talk, Bertrand confessed his crime, and they fought. Rebecca won the fight and ran away in shame, thinking she had murdered him.”

“That’s when Suzie cme out. She was probably enraged after what she had heard, so she grabbed a file and stabbed Bertrand. I don’t think she was thinking too much at this point, she was probably just blind with rage. But when it was done, she began to fear for her life, and despairingly looked for a way to save herself.”

“She then thought of an insane plan. First she removed Bertrand’s shirt from his corpse, tearing it as it came out. Then she grabbed the circular saw from the torture room, and cut each of Julie’s limbs, placing her severed head near the window for everyone to see. Part of the plan was to make us think a psychopath was behind the murder, but that wasn’t all. Next she cut her own arm with the circular saw, a feat probably impossible for anyone except her: as we’ve learned, she suffers from a dangerous illness which prevents her from feeling any pain. Wrapping her stump with Bertrand’s shirt prevented her blood from dripping, but from that moment on her moves were limited. She quickly washed the saw using one of the sinks from the science lab, and put it back in its rightful place. Then grabbing her own arm, she walked to the restaurant, and lied down on the floor. I think she too, was planning to frame Ferdinand, remembering he had fallen asleep there. But the main goal was to make herself look like a victim, and for us to associate her attack with Julie’s murder, so we’d never think to suspect her. It almost worked, actually.”

Suzie was crying by this point.

“It’s so unfair,” she sobbed. “Why did Julie have to die? Why, why, why _her?_ It should have been me. Bertrand could have killed me, I’d gladly give him my life if it could protect her, so why?”

She let out a long, long scream. It wasn’t fear, it wasn’t even anger anymore, it was nothing but a long, interminable wail, a cry of sorrow which enveloped all the presents and crushed their souls to pieces. Lisa barely even heard it. She had sat down on the floor, because she was breathing a little hard. Then eventually she lied down, and passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little watercolor piece I did of Suzie's crime: https://imgur.com/a/nuYU3Dw


	24. Hunger, Exploration, and Rats

Lisa woke up in a bed, having no idea how she had ended up there. It was so comfortable that she didn’t want to get up. Closing her eyes, she went back to sleep, briefly. The horrible killing game could wait for fifteen more minutes.

When she woke up again, she looked around herself. Bob was sitting on a chair next to her, reading a book whose title read… ‘Flirting tips’? Interesting. He didn’t seem to notice she had woken up.

Where was she…? This looked a lot like room 104. Okay, so apparently the situation hadn’t changed all that much. There had been the trial, yes, and…

_Don’t think about the trial too much for now, or it’s just going to hurt._

And then… and then nothing. She was still stuck in the facility with no way out, and there was nothing she could do about it. Nothing to wait for, nothing to expect except perhaps more murders.

“Oh uh, hey Lis’. Didn’t notice ya there. How ya feelin’?”

“Me? Oh uh… I’m good I suppose,” she lied. “What happened after I passed out?”

Bob took off his beanie. He looked really sad, this time.

“Not much. Without Julie to boss us around, we’ve all kinda… returned to our rooms to mourn.”

“What about the execution?” Lisa heard herself ask. “How did it go?”

“It’s… not done, actually. As in, it’s ongoin’. Look at the TV.”

Lisa got up from her bed, and sat in front of the TV. It hadn’t been turned on since her arrival, for a while she had doubted it even worked. The screen showed what looked like a dark tunnel in the sewers. Suzie was walking, knee deep in brown water, a flashlight in hand. She looked exhausted.

“Why is she here?” Lisa asked. “Where even is she?”

“Monoblade told us there’s sum’ kinda underwater sewer maze. Said he was glad to have someone explorin’ it.”

“He’s just going to leave Suzie to die?”

“Yeah. Said sum’thin’ like: ‘Major bummer ya can’t feel pain, how m’y s’posed t’execute ya? Oh wait, ya can still feel hunger. ‘s all good.’ So uh… I think he wants to starve her basically.”

“That’s...”

Lisa didn’t know what adjective to use, so she dropped the sentence there.

“Is there any way to turn this thing off?”

“Nah,” Bob said. “The buttons don’t do nuthin’, I tried.”

Lisa got up from her chair, very suddenly.

“I need some air. Bob, you mind coming with me?”

“No prob, but uh… ya sure yer okay? It kinda spooked us when ya passed out, y’know.”

“Figure I should probably eat something,” Lisa said. “Even though I don’t really want to.”

They left room 104, walking toward the parking lot in silence.

“Where are Ryoji and Rebecca?” Lisa eventually asked, once they were outside.

“Ryo went to explore. He said he wanted to save Suzie’s life, so he’s searchin’ for a way to open a passage to the sewers. As for Becca, I honestly dunno. She’s hidin’ somewhere I reckon. Feels terrible she wasn’t able to save Bertrand.”

Lisa nodded. She knew she was supposed to feel sad for Rebecca, but oddly enough she couldn’t. She felt completely numb.

“Still… mighty impressive what ya pulled during that trial. I mean, I sorta wasn’t as surprised as the first time, but still… you rock, Lis’.”

“Do I?” Lisa asked. “My reasoning was pretty shaky if you think about it. I had sincerely forgotten about Florian at the end there. With a mistake like that, I could have gotten us all killed.”

“Uh… Lis’.”

Bob had stopped walking. He was staring at her straight in the eyes.

“Ya saved our lives out there. F’real. You’re our hero. None of us really knows how to thank ya enough, so dun’t… beat yerself, ‘kay? Ya should’ve never had to deal with sum’thin’ like that. Being an attorney ain’t yer job, so be fucking proud o’ yerself, ‘kay?”

“… later maybe,” she said, avoiding his gaze. “I don’t feel like survival skills are something to be super proud of, honestly.”

“Woah, that hurts, right there. Ya know survival skills are what got me accepted into the GTU, yeah?”

Lisa didn’t reply for a while.

“Sorry Bob. I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m just… really not feeling good.”

“You’re blaming yourself for Suzie’s death?”

She nodded.

“But all ya did was figure out the truth. Ya looked thoroughly at the crime scene, ya connected all the dots ya could connect, and ya found out who’d killed Julie and Bertrand. Where’s the crime in that? D’you think there’s some crime hidden in the truth? Truth is just how the world is. If people have a problem with it, they should fix the world, not th’one who exposes the truth.”

Lisa remained silent for a while.

“I know you’re right,” she eventually said, feeling exasperated. “So why am I so angry at myself?”

“Emotions are natchural. Le’s get ya some food, and maybe la’er we can find sum’thin’ for ya to punch, yeah?”

“Yeah. Punching something sounds great actually.”

“It does, duznit?”

“Say Bob, can I hug you?”

The request seemed to take him by surprise. To be fair, it had been really sudden.

“Not like I dun’t wanna, but like… I ain’t the ultimate hugger, y’know?”

“It doesn’t matter, Bob. You’re my friend, and I love you a lot.”

“Okie then!”

He wrapped her in a tight hug. He was much thinner than Ryoji, thus making it an entirely different experience. He smelled a little of cigarette too. Still, it made Lisa feel a lot better.

“Okay, let’s have some food now,” she said when they were done, smiling for the first time in the day.

But when she entered the restaurant, she suddenly stopped in her tracks as she noticed something.

“Wow, the stairs! There was a huge pile of rubber there, right? I’m not dreaming? Where did it all go?”

“No clue. Probubly that Monoblade and his crew moved it while we were trialing? I actually haven’t been up there yet.”

“Okay then, it’s exploration time!” Lisa shouted, clashing her fist against her open hand, forcing herself to sound more enthusiastic than she actually felt.

Of course, they grabbed a bite to eat first. Lisa had a sudden craving for waffles, but since there was no waffle machine around, she made some _crêpes_ instead. Bob found them delicious.

After that they ran up to the staircase, and found themselves in another narrow hallway.

“It’s me or...” Bob began.

“It’s not you, the building is sloping a little. I guess it partially collapsed during the bombings.”

“Is this place even safe?” Bob wondered.

“I hope it is. Hey, Monoblade?”

Monoblade dropped in front of them from another hole in the ceiling, which closed as soon as he came.

“Monoblade, ready for action!” The robot shouted, saluting bravely.

“Wow, dude, I never asked, how come yer always so fast?”

“Simple,” Monoblade cackled. “I have more than one body, and can project my voice into any of them! Therefore, I can help my little kids whenever they need me, isn’t that cool?”

“I wonder,” Lisa said. “You could just use the speakers to talk to us, or a monitor system. Using an actual robot _mascotte_ is a little… overkill?”

“Wh- that’s offensive young lady! I’ll have you know the viewers love me.”

“The who now?” Bob asked, scratching his beard.

“Uh, nevermind, forget I said anything,” Monoblade cut in, sounding very embarrassed all of a second, before disappearing.

“That was definitely a slip up,” Lisa commented. “I wonder if it’s important?”

“We’ll just have to ask Aphrodite at sum’ point,” Bob said, shrugging.

They opened the first door to their right, and found an ordinary apartment. It had been restored, just like the restaurant.

“Woah, this feels weird,” Bob said. “I mean, the rest’rant was a public building, yeah? But here we’re like, straight up in someone’s house.”

“Probably a dead person too,” Lisa added. “But it’s not like we can afford to be picky.”

This person lived in a rather small apartment, all things said and done, with only a bedroom, a bathroom and a kitchen. The bedroom was plain and ordinary, there was only one bed, and the walls were covered with movie posters. The once nice detail was the piano, set against one of the wall. Bob also found a guitar inside a case.

“Ya think those are in workin’ order?”

“They’ve probably been restored, just like the rest of this place,” Lisa said, testing the keys. “Hm, seems to be working. Too bad I can’t play.”

“I know a few tunes,” Bob said with a smile. “’been practicin’ in railway stations.”

“Neat!”

The bathroom was very tiny, but at least that meant they would have one extra shower and toilet (the last week had been a pain, with only two showers for fifteen people – now four showers for twelve still wasn’t much, but it was definitively an improvement). Meanwhile, the kitchen seemed to have been repurposed as some kind of workshop.

“Seems that guy was very into wood carvin’,” Bob commented, admiring a few of the hand-made statues which had been disposed on a shelf.

“How do you know it was a guy? Maybe it was a gal for all you know.”

“Very true.”

“Still, I don’t know what it is with these kidnappers and giving us all these tools? What do they expect us to make of it?”

“Muder plots?” Bob suggested.

“I want to carve something very un-threatening just to spite them. Like...”

She didn’t seem to have any ideas.

“Like a rollin’ pin?” Bob offered.

“Yeah, that works.”

“I been hit on the head with a rollin’ pin once. It hurt like hell, it did.”

Lisa rolled her eyes.

They left the apartment and opened the other door, finding themselves in a very similar home. The interior _décor_ was very different from the previous apartment, but there was the same set of rooms: bathroom, kitchen and bedroom.

“This person owns a crazy ton of books,” Bob commented, whistling. “Hope it’s not about science of robotics or sum’ o’ that shit, ‘cuz it kinda bored me to death when I helped Julie reading those.”

 _How can he mention her name so casually?_ Lisa briefly wondered.

“Yeah,” was all she said. “I suppose that’s nice.”

Lisa found a sewing kit, and a large amount of colorful pieces of fabric. That would make Aphrodite happy.

“Oh, a potted plant,” Bob commented. “Does that mean we gotta water it ourselves, from now on?”

“Probably. But we’re not the plant experts here, I bet Jean or Florian will take care of it better than us.”

The last door on the second floor led to a large balcony, which overlooked a part of the town which had previously been hidden. The view was very picturesque, if you were into the “end of the world” aesthetic.

“Hm, we can see it be’er from here, f’sure,” Bob muttered to himself.

“What are you talking about?”

“Look’ere, this big building in the distance. It looks very new, duznit?”

“It does,” Lisa admitted. “I know this isn’t supposed to shock us anymore, but damn. Ghost time my ass.”

“What kinda buildin’ d’ya think it is?”

“Hm… I’m guessing some secret military training facility. For a secret army of sorts.”

“Could be,” Bob said. “I thought it’d be a secret science lab.”

“Dude. We are in the secret science lab.”

She could almost see the gears working in Bob’s brain.

“Oh, that’s why there’s a bunch of labs?”

“Come on, don’t tell me you didn’t realize...”

“It only just hit me, man,” he said with a laugh.

How could he laugh so innocently at a time like this? Lisa had no idea, but it did cheer her up a little. Maybe things were going to be okay, after all.

They left the building, crossed the parking lot again, then went back inside the facility. As expected, the last door in the western wing had opened, and it led to a set of stairs. And the second floor was…

“Wow,” Bob whispered.

Wow indeed. The second floor’s western wing was a single, huge room, which looked like the inside of a spaceship. There was a glowing table in the middle, with an interactive map of the world. Some sort of cells had been embedded into the north and south walls, with only a couch and a light. The words “artificial sleep” had been printed above each of the cells. There were also a bunch of robot parts scattered all around, and big machine to assemble them (but no matter how many buttons Bob pressed, it wouldn’t turn on).

“How can this be?” Lisa asked out loud. “It’s like we’ve jumped in time.”

“I dunno, but it’s crazy awesome!” Bob yelled excitedly, playing with a robotic arm which looked as big as him.

In a corner of the room, Lisa noticed a large container filled with soil, and protected by a round glass panel. It was lit from the inside, and a bunch of strange plants were growing in it. Lisa was no biologist, but she was sure she had never seen those in her life before. The container was engraved with the words “Ultimate biologist’s work”.

_Why is this miniature garden here? Who has been taking care of it all this time? And what about all these machines? What are we supposed to make of them?_

She could hear Bob fiddling with the exit door.

“Wh- we can’t go further ‘n that?”

“What’s up?”

“It’s locked,” Bob explained. “I figured there’d be ‘nother elevator room out there, but I can’t opennit.”

“Huh,” Lisa said. “How weird, to suddenly give us access to the second floor, but only that room?”

“I heard that!” Came Monoblade’s irritating voice through the speakers, before he dropped into the room.

“These kids,” he complained as he waddled toward Lisa and Bob. “I give you three brand new rooms to explore, and you’re still complaining?”

“Easy for you to say!” Lisa retorted. “We never asked to be trapped in here.”

“Well too bad for you, missy,” he replied crossing his tiny arms smugly.

“Say Mono, why do you call us ‘kids’ anyway?” Bob asked casually.

“Mono?” Monoblade repeated. “I deserve a nickname?”

That seemed to genuinely surprise him, but Bob was still waiting for his answer.

“It’s just that...” (he flailed his arms around, embarrassingly) “you’re all just kids to me,” he mumbled. “So what? I can call you whatever I want!”

“Dunno, I was just curious,” Bob said.

Lisa was frowning.

“Why did your accent change?” She asked suddenly.

“Uh? Me?” Bob asked.

“No, not you. Monoblade.”

“My accent hasn’t changed, I don’t see what you’re talking about,” Monoblade replied flatly.

“Oh I see what you mean,” Bob chimed in, nodding a little. “It’s like he’s from the south now.”

“That’s not true!” Monoblade yelled. “Besides I hate the south, it’s way too hot.”

Pouting theatrically, he dropped into a hole and left. The room fell silent.

“Figure we should have some sort of meeting with the others at this point, dontcha think?”

“Yeah, we should.”

But when they searched the facility, they could only find Jordana and Florian. Everywhere else seemed to be completely empty. For a little moment, Lisa suddenly felt hopeful. What if they had actually found an exit, and were running away from the kidnappers? But Jordana was quick to crush her hopes.

“While inspecting the hospital rooms, pig boy managed to find a secret passage that leads to the sewers. Everyone ran down there, I think they’re hoping to save Suzie.”

“Wow, this is huge!” Lisa shouted, eyes wide.

“Pig boy?” Bob echoed angrily. “I’ll teach ya not to insult my bro like that!”

“Oh, you’re going to be fun to tease,” Jordana replied with a giggle.

“Where is it though?” Lisa asked, ignoring the quarrel. “Where’s the secret passage?”

“Room 104, if I’m not mistaken.”

Lisa didn’t bother to thank Jordana and ran, quickly followed by Bob. The secret passage was very easy to notice: one of the floor tiles had been removed, and a ladder led into a very dark and foul-smelling tunnel.

“Ew, yikes,” Bob commented. “We have to go down there?”

“Of course!” Lisa shouted.

She dropped down the ladder, and ended up on a little stone platform, slightly above the water level. Jean had already been waiting nearby, but jumped in shock when they heard the sound.

“Wow, warn me next time you jump like that, geez!”

“Sorry,” Lisa said, taking a look at her surrounding (wow, this place was dark). “Where are the others?”

“They all split up to look for Suzie, or an exit if such a thing exists. This place is kind of a maze, I’ve been told. We told each other we’d keep in contact through the group chat, you can look at it if you like.”

“And what are ya doin’ here, mate?” Bob asked.

“I’m, uh… afraid of the dark, and rats, and all the other scary things in this gross sewer maze, and also I gotta make sure Jordana doesn’t come down here. The others said it was okay if I remained here for now.”

“On yer own? Y’ain’t scared?”

“W-well… I just hope really strongly that Jordana won’t come? I guess I can just run away if she attacks me?”

 _“_ _L’espoir fait vivre,”_ Bob commented.

Lisa was looking around. The walls were grey and gloomy, the water looked thick with… with what, exactly? She had no idea, and would rather not know. There were indeed some fat rats running around, among other things.

“Ryoji is actually searching this place?” She asked. “He’s not scared or anything?”

“I think he is,” Jean said. “But Magalie is looking after him.”

“I gotta help him,” Bob mumbled.

“What about Ferd?” Lisa asked.

“Typhaine’s guiding him this time.”

“I see. Well, thanks Jean, we’ll be on our way.”

There were two ways to go: north and south. Jean told Lisa that most of the others had gone north, so she and Bob went south. Bob was a bit disappointed to leave Ryoji with Magalie, but Lisa needed a partner in case something went wrong. She turned on the light from her monopad and began to run. She ran for what seemed like hours, finding more and more ground to cover. The underground network was huge. The walls were dirty and damp, but looked solid. Sometimes she would find bones, sometimes plants growing in the water or between the cracks in the stone, sometimes some strange tags on the walls. At times, a fence would block her path, at times she’d have to get her feet wet, and sometimes the water level would even reach her waist. The smell was killing her nostrils, but she covered her nose with a handkerchief and kept going.

“Lisa,” Bob eventually said, real quietly. “I dun’t think we’ll find it.”

She stopped running, turned around, and shone her light at him. She didn’t know for how long they had been exploring, perhaps an hour. He looked extremely tired, and resigned. Mostly, he looked disgusting and muddy. It was the face of a man who had given up.

“But-”

“Think about it. This secret passage prob’ly opened for a reason. Them kidnappers like to make a big show, don’t they? They gave us this… weird place, so we’d come with funky murder ideas. That’s probably it.”

Lisa looked down at her feet. She knew he was right, of course.

“Did you actually notice some cameras?” She asked quietly.

“No, but I didn’t notice ‘em in the train either, or in the facility for that matter… and yet we know they’re there.”

“...”

“Y’know, if yer not convinced, there’s a real easy way to spoil the surprise.”

“What do you… oh, I get it. We can just call Monoblade.”

“Yup. Hey Mono, ya hear us?”

Monoblade dropped from the ceiling, right above Bob, who caught him with both hands.

“You have some nerves, making me come here of all places!” The robot growled. “You dirty, gross, mud boy!”

“Whatchu complainin’ about, Mono? Ya dun’t have a sense of smell in there, do ya?”

“Well, technically no, but...”

“Then stop being a sorry sport, old man. We got enough to worry about without havin’ to deal with yer shenanigans.”

Monoblade couldn’t blink in shock, but if he could, Lisa felt like he would have done it right away. He jumped from Bob’s arms, and disappeared through a hole in the wall, which closed off behind him. Lisa sighed, and began to walk back to the secret passage’s entrance. Now that the adrenaline rush had cooled down, she suddenly felt exhausted, and her feet hurt a lot. She typed a little message for the group chat as she walked.

[Lisa] bob and i ran for a while, but we didnt find anything special. talked wth monoblade.

[Magalie] Monoblade? Even here?

[Ryoji] What did he say?

[Lisa] his usual nonsense, doesn’t really matter.

[Robert] BRO!! U okay?

[Ryoji] Yes bro, I’m good, thank you for asking. It makes me very happy that you care about my well-being, but you don’t need to worry because I’m fine.

[Magalie] You DO need to worry about him, Ryoji is shaking in his boots over here. He whimpers every time we hear a noise.

[Magalie] That includes my sneezes.

[Ryoji] That is true I am very scared

[Robert] oh no bro i will save you don’t worry

[Lisa] be brave ryo!

[Jean] to be fair this place is creepy

[Jean] also if you gotta flirt, use dms damnit

[Jean] way to make a guy feel lonely

[Lisa] guy?

[Jean] yeah like, i was trying to find a gender neutral term

[Jean] but i kinda blanked

[Lisa] hold on i’m gonna think of something

[Lisa] bob suggested ‘king’

[Jean] that’s not gender neutral, but thanks anyway

[Lucien] Dear Jean,

[Lucien] Have you considered “mortal”?

[Lucien] A solid word I believe, which happens to be gender-neutral.

[Lucien] Sincerely yours,

[Lucien] Lucien.

[Magalie] wow

[Lisa] i second that wow

[Jean] you really text like that dude???

[Typhaine] he says it’s more proper and show the respect he has for you all \o/

[Ryoji] How sweet of him! That’s appreciated.

Lisa took her eyes away from her monopad, smiling to herself, thinking how much she loved her dorky friends. Bob was shining his light at a nearby wall, apparently lost in thoughts.

“Say Lis’, I just… well, I’m wonderin’ about somethin’.”

“What is it?”

“Do we know why this place is here?” Bob asked, gesturing to the tunnels around him. “It’s so big, and like… what even happened here?”

Lisa stopped to ponder for a moment. The prospect of finding an escape, the idea that she could maybe save Suzie, it had all distracted her mind from what this place actually was supposed to be. Why did it even exist? Why was it so big?

“I, uh… I didn’t think about it.”

“Ya think this is like… where the citizens hid during the bombings?” Bob asked, very quietly.

Lisa’s heart dropped. Of course, that made perfect sense. The bones, the skeletons, the rats, the messages on the wall… she put a hand in front of her mouth.

“But no one survived,” she said in a hollow voice. “They were stuck under there, and...”

“Died?” Bob asked. “Yeah, I reckon so. Still, there’s some… weird stuff on the walls, sum’times. Look’ere.”

Lisa walked toward him, and looked at the wall. The message had been carved into the stone, with a thick and sharp object. It read: “Deactivate Premier”, over and over again. Lisa frowned. What could it mean?

“Ya think ‘Premier’ is a code name of some sort?” Bob asked.

“Hold on, I’ll ask the group chat,” Lisa replied.

[Lisa] bob and me found some weird messages on the wall

[Lisa] deactivate premier

[Lisa] has any of you found something like that?

[Magalie] No.

[Typhaine] Yeah.

[Typhaine] It said “Premier = death”

[Typhaine] It’s a little scary I think!

[Lisa] No kidding.

[Aphrodite] Fascinating. I wonder if we could find more information on the subject if we looked through the bookshelves in the offices.

[Lisa] oh aphrodite, you’re here too! investigating with rebecca?

[Aphrodite] I’m on my own actually. Rebecca is hiding somewhere in the facility, but I couldn’t find her.

[Lisa] bob says: “yer explorin’ on yer own? nani the fuck pal?”

[Magalie] Wise words indeed.

[Jean] i didn’t know bob was a weeb

[Ryoji] We watched anime together in the train.

[Typhaine] I love anime!! which one was it? **

[Ryoji] Fullmetal alchemist.

[Lisa] lemme guess

[Lisa] you cried

[Ryoji] I did. I think I cried during the first ten minutes.

[Magalie] Incredible how easy we get sidetracked

[Magalie] Weren’t we discussing creepy wall messages?

[Jean] to be fair, discussing anime is more fun

[Jordana] I was wondering why my monopad kept buzzing.

[Jordana] But you’re actually having a little party in there!

[Jordana] Nerds.

[Lisa] damnit, not her

[Jean] shit, she’s found the group chat!

[Typhaine] Can’t we kick her? :o

[Jordana] No one can kick me, I’m eternal.

[Jean] please monoblade, remove jordana from our existence

[Monoblade] You rang?

[Jean] WHAAAAAT THE HELL WHY IS HE HERE TOO

[Ryoji] fzieufgzoieufgzpieufgpzgu

[Typhaine] Jesus no!!!

[Magalie] That was to be expected.

[Monoblade] Y’all are the most ungrateful kids in existence, seriously.

[Jordana] Yes, you tell them Monoblade. Teach your children some manners!

At this point, Lisa looked away from the group chat once more, and resume walking with Bob. They were almost back at the entrance anyway. They waited for the others to arrive in silence, then climbed up the ladder, and split up to have showers and clean their clothes. Meanwhile, Jordana and Florian were watching the execution together from the office 101 in the north wing. On the TV monitors, Suzie had stopped walking. She was sitting in the murky water, shining her light at a wall. A picture of Bertrand in his youth had been painted there.

“Interesting,” Jordana commented. “I assume showing her pictures of Bertrand is meant to torture her emotionally. Make her see what kind of man she murdered, in a way.”

“Why does he have to show us the execution, though?” Florian asked, his eyes glued to the screen. “What’s the point?”

“To watch our reactions, I would assume. To make the game more exciting by raising the stakes. Showing everyone the risks that come with murder, to test our courage.”

“You really are messed up,” Florian commented.

On the screen, Suzie began to sob.

“Let me die already!” She yelled. “Fucking shoot me in the heart, put an end to this, put and end… to… this...”

A laugh echoed through the tunnel. Suzie punched the wall in anger.

“I wonder...” Jordana commented. “If she can drown herself in that?”

“I do not wish to know.”

Florian was visibly distressed: he was sweating a little, and constantly moving on his seat.

“Why are you even watching this?” Jordana eventually asked. “It’s obviously hurting you.”

“I...”

He seemed to hesitate, then turned to look at Jordana straight in the eyes.

“I want to watch every execution, and feel each murderer’s pain, so I never have the courage to become one of them.”

It seemed he had caught Jordana off guard, but she quickly regained her amused expression.

“What a silly man you are. Go to bed, Florian. I don’t want to be with you anymore.”


	25. Names, Leadership, and Dirty Execution

Jean was the first to wake up the next morning. Considering the recent deaths and opening of new spaces, the hospital rooms were far less crowded. They were alone, for the time being. The TV screen was still on: that meant Suzie hadn’t died yet. Quickly throwing a glance, Jean noticed that she was on her knees, breathing hard. Her clothes, her hair were absolutely disgusting, and she had several bruises on her arm. It was a miracle she was even alive at this point. Had she slept? Could she sleep without drowning?

Jean forced themselves to look away from the screen. They were trying to convince themselves that it was all fair, that Suzie had deserved her treatment for killing Bertrand. They failed. Leaving the room, they found themselves walking toward the restaurant, as usual. It was completely empty. Sitting on a chair, they took out a little crumpled piece of paper from their pocket, and flattened it against the table. They had written a list of gender-neutral names, provided by Aphrodite. It read:

  * Alix

  * Camille

  * Cassandre

  * Charlie

  * Claude

  * Dominique

  * Lou

  * Sasha




Jean was frowning. All good names all in all, but none of them felt right. The problem was that there weren’t all that many gender-neutral names. How could they solve this problem?

Suddenly, a strange idea came up to them.

“Monoblade? You mind coming here for a second?”

“The hero answers the call!” The robot replied, dropping onto a chair. “What will it be this time?”

“Do you know any gender-neutral names?”

“Uh… Claude, Dominique…?”

“Sure, but I already got those. Anything else?”

Monoblade growled.

“You know, you’re only supposed to call me when you have a question relevant to the killing game! Stop wasting my time with your shenanigans!”

“Don’t be like that, I’m sure you’re bored on your own, watching us non stop. Come on, don’t you have another idea?”

“Uh...”

Monoblade seemed to really ponder for a moment. His robot features were oddly expressive.

“You tried Gwenn? I have a niece called Gwenn.”

Jean blinked. Their eyes widened, and they shot up from their seat.

“Oh my god!” They shouted. “Yes, that’s perfect! That’s, that’s- it’s the name I want!”

“What?” Monoblade said, dumbfounded. “You were seriously asking your _kidnapper_ for a new name? Are you going insane?”

“Probably!” Gwenn replied cheerfully. “Don’t you think that’s hilarious? This murderous robo-bear wants us to kill each other, and I ask to be _baptisé!”_

And they burst out laughing, clutching both hands onto their stomach, teary-eyed and incapable of regaining control of themselves. Eventually they fell on the floor, and literally began to roll.

“You’ve completely lost it, kiddo,” Monoblade said with a chuckle of his own, before leaving the scene.

Gwenn kept laughing for a while, sitting on the floor and rubbing their eyes.

“Oh boy, he’s right,” they said, panting. “I’m going crazy!”

And they began to laugh some more. Aphrodite found them lying down on the floor, lost ina fit of giggles. When she asked what was up, they jumped to hug her, and told them they had found a new name.

“Oh, that’s nice. Not the hug, the new name.”

“Yeah, it is! C’mon, let’s make breakfast.”

It was the clumsiest Aphrodite had even seen Gwenn. They continually dropped what they were holding, mixed up the wrong ingredients, and kept laughing about it. Laughter being a little contagious, Aphrodite let herself have a giggle every now and then.

Soon everyone had gathered for breakfast, except for the usual absents. Bob was probably still sleeping, Jordana and Florian skipped the meal because they were too edgy to actually join the group for something as trivial as breakfast, and Rebecca was still hiding. Adding to that the fact that Lucien and Typhaine were having some mysterious morning prayer in an unknown room, the breakfast party was limited to Gwenn, Aphrodite, Magalie, Ferdinand, Lisa and Ryoji.

“It feels strange to see so little of us at the table today,” Ryoji commented quietly as he drank his tea like a gentleman. “We used to be a whole class, now we’re just a little group.”

“I wanted to discuss a few things, but it feels unfair to leave the others in the dark,” Aphrodite said.

“Eh, it’s their fault really,” Gwenn said with a shrug. “They should’ve come if they wanted to hear your insights!”

“Has anybody seen Rebecca at all since the trial ended?” Lisa asked gloomily.

No one replied.

“I think we should just give her some time,” Magalie eventually said. “It was a lot to take in.”

“She probably feels responsible for Bertrand’s death,” Aphrodite guessed. “If she had remained in the torture room, she could have stopped Suzie from flipping out on him.”

“And she might have perished instead of him,” Ferdinand concluded with a shiver. “She should not let other people’s misdeeds burden her so.”

“I tried to text her, but she won’t reply,” Lisa said. “I wish I could help, but I don’t know how.”

Another silence. Ryoji got up from his chair, and went to hug Lisa. He whispered something to her, and they both left together.

“Geez,” Gwenn said uneasily. “Even Lisa’s cracking up? We’re all doomed.”

“She’ll probably be fine,” Magalie said. “Still, we have a list of problems on our hands, guys. What do we do with the torture rooms? I’d say we lock them again, but that makes the key-bearers easy murder targets, so that’s obviously not good.”

“There is a much simpler solution,” Aphrodite said. “We can get rid of the poison bottles by throwing them in the sewers. Nobody will be able to find them again.”

“Oh right, that works.”

“And the same goes for the dangerous tools we have been provided!” Ferdinand added, loudly. “Into the abyss they go!”

“Even your sword?” Magalie asked, sounding concerned.

“Yes, especially my sword,” Ferdinand replied with a disgusted frown. “I don’t want to touch it again, now that it has been thrust in Julie’s body.”

“Oh yeah by the way… what about the bodies?” Gwenn asked. “Should we like, bury them in the parking lot?”

“Monoblade got rid of them,” Aphrodite explained. “The science lab is clean now, I went there this morning, it’s like the murder never happened.”

“Huh. That’s very very creepy somehow.”

“You mean how Monoblade can make us disappear like that?” Magalie asked. “Yeah, it’s creepy as hell.”

“So, back on topic,” Ferdinand said. “We now know how to get rid of the dangerous objects. But what about this mysterious room in the second floor? Have you all been up there?”

Three nods.

“It’s quite… concerning, isn’t it?” Magalie asked. “All these robotic parts, and that strange machine, and those… relaxation cells, or whatever they were. What is that even doing in a research facility?”

“It shouldn’t surprise us all that much. We have found several books on the subject of robotics in the offices,” Aphrodite reminded her. “More specifically, dissertations written by ultimate students, as part of the GTU’s research group. It seems obvious our college has spent quite a lot of money on robot-making.”

“But that’s the weird part, isn’t it?” Magalie countered. “I’ve studied the history of the GTU quite a lot, but didn’t find anything in the records about an ultimate roboticist, or an ultimate mechanic for that matter. Aren’t research results supposed to be made public?”

“Yeah, and Lorient is supposed to be a toxic ghost town,” Gwenn replied with a sigh. “We should be getting used to all these lies by now.”

“Actually, we can always ask Monobla-” Aphrodite began, but the little bear had already landed on the table.

“You rang? Oh, that’s a small committee today. Breakfasts used to be much more popular, whatever the hell happened?”

“Monoblade, can you tell us more about the GTU?” Aphrodite asked, ignoring his silly question. “About this facility, about the strange tools in the science lab, the mysterious machines on the second floor, and the non toxic air that we’ve been breathing since we arrived here?”

Monoblade remained silent for a bit.

“I don’t know if I’m allowed to divulge those informations actually.”

“Not allowed?” Ferdinand repeated. “By whom?”

“You’re not the leader of the kidnappers?” Magalie asked. “I could have sworn you were.”

Monoblade must have sensed this was turning into a tricky conversation, for he left without saying another word.

“Okay, so, that’s another mystery to add to the pile,” Gwenn said with a shrug. “Wonderful.”

“I think,” Aphrodite began, “that I have some reading to do.”

And without further explanation, she rose from her seat, and left the restaurant.

“Well,” Ferdinand said after a while. “Let us take care of the poison situation, then?”

**

“So you have finally decided to confront the truth?”

Typhaine didn’t reply. She was kneeling onto a rug, hugging her cap for comfort. She looked tired and helpless.

They were in apartment suit n°1, the one with the piano. Lucien had decided to make it his main quarters, and had already began redecorating the place with pious images he had brought with him for the trip. He was wearing a long white cape that day, and holding a little rosary in his left hand. His hair had grown considerably since the beginning of their adventure – his beard too, had begun to grow, eating the sides of his face like a fire devours a forest. If anything, it only made him even more handsome than he had previously been.

“I’m sorry that I’m such a coward,” Typhaine eventually said. “I’ll stop running away now. I’ll do as you say.”

“Good. Do you remember what it is I told you last time?”

“Yes. First step toward the light is confessing one’s sins.”

“So naturally you must be wondering...”

“What the second step is? Yes, I do,” Typhaine admitted.

“You are afraid,” Lucien said.

“I am. Is it going to hurt?”

“Yes,” Lucien replied.

“Why?” Typhaine asked in a tiny voice.

“Consider this: the lord is all forgiving, but this is a cruel world we have made in his absence. For each of our sins, we wound his soul. Could we really soil the perfect palace of heaven with our dirt?”

“But pain-”

“Without any form of punishment, confession of one’s sins would be an open door to committing more sins, do you realize? If all you had to do was apologize to the local _prêtre_ any time you misconducted, would you truly learn anything from your mistakes?”

“I...”

“Are you ready to prove to the lord that you can move on? That you can wash off your hideous crime with blood and sweat, and be born anew?”

Typhaine remained silent for a little while.

“No, I… I’m not ready yet.”

“Then I shall wait,” Lucien replied serenely. “Until you are ready, I shall remain here. Go now. You will know where to find me.”

Typhaine looked miserable as she left the room, closing the door softly behind her. Lucien remained on his seat, eyes closed, basking in the morning light. For a little while, silence reigned.

“Rebecca, you may come out now.”

The young woman, who had been hiding in the bedroom opened the door and went to stand in front of him.

“Have you heard our conversation?” Lucien asked her.

“I have.”

“You have already confessed,” Lucien said. “Are you ready for the next step?”

Rebecca seemed to ponder for a moment.

“Yes,” she eventually said.

Her tone was firm and strong, making it clear that she would not hesitate.

“Very good,” Lucien muttered, nodding.

And he handed her the whip.

**

Noon came, and Lucien was in the kitchen. He wanted his classmates to have a healthy meal, so he made an assortment of fried veggies and rice, with a little bit of soy sauce.

“Hm, perhaps I should add a touch of _parmigiano?”_ He pondered out loud. “Oh, I shouldn’t. If I recall, Ferdinand is lactose intolerant.”

His meal ready, he brought all the dishes to the main table, waiting for the others to arrive. He had asked Rebecca and Typhaine to bring everyone, and that meant _everyone_ , including Jordana and Florian. Rebecca had been told that if they didn’t want to cooperate, she had to carry them all the way to the restaurant, and threaten to tie them to a chair.

But none of that was necessary, because the children were nice, and each of them came for lunch. Robert wasn’t even late, although he did look a little droopy, which hinted that he had been asleep up until recently.

“So what’s the big even all about?” Jean -no, it was Gwenn, was it not?- asked.

“Eat, my friend,” Lucien said, taking his place at the table. “I will explain everything shortly.”

Lisa had been shocked to see Rebecca again, and had ran to hug her. Rebecca had laughed, apparently equally glad to meet her friend again. Maybe her joy felt a little forced, but at least she was putting a good effort.

“My friends, I need to apologize to you all,” Lucien began, once everyone had started eating. “I let this devious killing game run far too long. I have greatly underestimated our enemies, but it will happen no more.”

He got up from his chair, and bowed slightly, which left several of his friends confused.

“Whatchu apologizin’ for, man?” Robert asked. “We’re all innis together, s’not like you could have done somethin’ to prevent these murders from hap’nin’.”

“That is where you would be wrong, dear Robert.”

‘Robert’ looked a little perplexed at hearing his true name spoken out loud. It had probably been a while.

“As the Ultimate Priest, I have the power to change, no, to _remedy_ this situation. Among all of us, I am perhaps the closest to the Lord, and the Lord protects the faithful.”

“I still don’t see where this is going,” Magalie commented.

“Wait for it,” Jordana said with a smile.

“Please,” Lucien said firmly. “Do not interrupt me.”

Silence.

“Good. Now, as I said, it is time to put an end to this killing game. This requires that we all work together, and for that to happen, we need to reelect a leader.”

“Interesting,” Aphrodite commented.

“Even now, you would have us do that again?” Ryoji asked, nervously.

“But who would want to become the leader, when our last one got killed?” Magalie asked. “We know the culprits are going to target the leaders first, because they hold too much power.”

“I would become your new leader anyway,” Lucien said, firmly. “I feel confident in my abilities, and I have a plan to save us all. To prevent any new murders from happening.”

“That is… interesting,” Florian commented, in a rather suspicious tone. “Now that you said that, you cannot back down, you know this? Whatever your plan is, it had better be good.”

“Or we’ll burn you at the stake!” Jordana said cheerfully.

“I am aware. I intend to reuse most of Julie’s ideas, mayhaps to push them a little further. We are far too idle here, and such a state of mind produces anxiety, greed and anger, all forms of sins which our kidnappers have been harvesting, and used against us. What we need is to remain busy. What we need is to have a _project_ , which involves all of us.”

He paused, for the dramatic effect. His classmates seemed to be pondering his new idea. Good, no one seemed to be against it for now. He could move on.

“I think we should work to rebuild this facility, to change it from the inside. It is not our home, because it has been forced upon us, but we may have to live here for a very long time: let us _make_ it our new home. Let us continue Bertrand’s work and repaint the walls, let us dig a hole in the parking lot and construct a pool, or a little shack, or a table where we could enjoy a nice cup of tea!”

“Wait, slow down,” Gwenn said. “We’re not skilled enough for that.”

“We are _Ultimates_ , my dear Gwenn. The nation’s greatest hope. What are we doing here, wallowing in self-pity, when we should be showing our strong side, when we should learn, adapt, and create something new?”

“It would be a wonderful way to show the kidnappers we will never submit to their will,” Ferdinand said with a large smile, stroking his moustache pensively. “I am very fond of this idea!”

“It is actually quite clever,” Aphrodite commented, looking at the sky. “I’m not sure if it’s a perfect plan, but it’s promising.”

“I’m super cool with it!” Typhaine shouted, raising her arms in the air. “I want to make this place into my house, it’ll be like I’m having endless holidays with you guys!”

“Not exactly holidays,” Lucien reminded her. “We should pursue Julie’s class idea, so that we are fit of body _and_ mind when we finally exit this _sombre_ place.”

“But that requires air-tight organization,” Magalie countered. “We’ll need a planning, a set of tasks, cooperation, orders...”

“And that is where I come in,” Lucien said enthusiastically, placing both hands on the table. “I will take care of this tedious work, and together we will change our life for the better!”

“Yeah,” Ryoji said, nodding. “We should totally do that!”

“If bro is on board with it, I’m cool,” Robert said with a shrug. “Besides havin’ our own pool sounds nice.”

“Don’t make us work too much though, please,” Gwenn said, wincing. “We’ll get some breaks, right?”

“Of course,” Lucien said. “I am not here to play the tyrant. I want our days to be fulfilling, not exhausting.”

“In that case, I’m good,” they replied, putting a hand through their hair. “Let’s just hope this works.”

Lucien was beaming. He could hardly believe what was going on.

_It is happening, it is actually happening! They are all in favor, and we-_

“I’m not going to be a part of this,” Jordana said drily.

Everyone stopped talking to look at her, but she was staring at Lucien straight in the eyes.

“This is entirely too suspicious. I don’t like the idea of you taking control so easily. You can command these morons if you like, but I won’t bow to your will.”

“You will,” Lucien said threateningly. “Or you will be imprisoned again.”

“Repeating Julie’s mistakes, are we?” Jordana replied in an even tone.

“No, this is different. Julie predicted you would cause trouble and locked you up for that reason – it was an unfair decision because she did not give you a chance. But I am. Work with us and you will be treated equally. This is a matter of life and death here.”

“And what if I resist, then?” Jordana asked.

Lucien didn’t bother replying. He looked at Rebecca and Ferdinand in the eyes. Both rose from their chairs. They didn’t need to do anything else: the threat was obvious.

“Right,” Jordana said. “If I resist, the local police will force me to be silent.”

“Keeping the order is paramount in this situation, do not act like you cannot understand,” Lucien replied.

“I choose jail,” Jordana spat. “Until you idiots realize your mistake and free me.”

Rebecca and Ferdinand grabbed her by the wrists and took her away. Lucien sighed.

“I knew this would happen. Still, do not give up hope, everyone. I will talk to her later, and maybe we can sort things out.”

**

Lucien’s plan needed to be written out properly: with Aphrodite’s help, it would take him the rest of the afternoon. In the meantime, the others were free to do as they pleased in the extended facility. Ferdinand and Magalie had gone back to their room. Magalie was sitting at the desk, reading a large book and taking notes on a little notebook. Ferdinand was walking in circles in the room, feeling a little restless.

He was bored, and a little nervous. It was that odd anxious feeling that one sometimes would feel, without knowing the cause.

On Ferdinand’s bed, a book had been dropped. A gray blurry shape on top of another gray blurry shape, that was what Ferdinand’s eyes saw. Ryoji had lend him the book a few days prior, before his secret had been revealed – back when only Magalie knew that Ferdinand couldn’t read. Still, Ryoji had looked very enthusiastic when he had given him the book, saying “It moved me to tears, I’m sure you’ll enjoy it!” with a big, big smile. A very blurry smile, but perceptible nonetheless. Now, it wasn’t very surprising that something would move Ryoji to tears, but still. Ferdinand really wanted to honor his gift by reading the book, and yet he couldn’t.

“Hey Mag, would you mind reading this book out loud for me?” He asked, his voice lacking its usual gusto.

“I’m working,” Magalie replied. “Maybe later.”

“Oh,” he said, sounding a little disappointed. “I see. What are you working on?”

“My thesis. Monoblade borrowed some very interesting books on the subject for me, so I’m taking notes.”

Magalie’s thesis was one of her greatest prides. Ferdinand had heard about it countless times by now, although admittedly it was sometimes too complex for him to understand. She worked on the Albigensian crusade, more specifically the relationship between the clergy and the lords. It was nice of Monoblade to give her some books on the subject, although a little odd.

“Why do you think he does that?”

“Does what?”

“Monoblade, why does he give you all these books?”

“Don’t know, don’t care.”

_All right, she does not wish to talk. I guess I will take a walk._

Ferdinand took the book and left the room, but as soon as he put his hand on the handle, Magalie turned her head toward him.

“You’re leaving on your own?”

“Indeed! Worry not, I will be careful.”

“Still, if you want to go somewhere, I could accompany you,” she said, frowning. “I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”

“I will be fine,” Ferdinand replied, sounding pained at how little he was being trusted. “I am not going very far anyway. Focus on your work.”

Magalie nodded, and went back to her book. Ferdinand left.

He had always hated this hallway: it was so bland that he could barely tell apart the doors from the rest of the wall. Still, he eventually managed to find the handle, and opened room 104. Two people were sitting on the bed, very close from one another. One of them looked large, that must be Ryoji: but as for the other one, Ferdinand had no idea. He wouldn’t know until he heard their voice.

“Hello,” he said, almost timidly.

“Oh hey Ferd!” Ryoji replied, sounding cheerful. “You want something from me?”

“If you are not busy that is,” Ferdinand replied, sounding embarrassed.

_A knight, asking help from people like that? Pathetic._

“It is about that book you lend me.”

“Oh yeah! Did you r-”

Then Ryoji suddenly remembered.

“Oh. Oh no, I’m so sorry.”

“Do not be sorry!” Ferdinand shouted, afraid that Ryoji would begin to cry again. “It is simply, uh… could you perhaps, read it for me?”

“Oh, sure! Bob, you want to hear it too?” (Oh, so that cleared the mystery of the second person’s identity).

“Sure, whassit ‘bout?”

“It’s about knights! Rivals at the court, to be more specific. They get into an argument to see who’s best, and the king puts them through some tough trials to test their worth. It’s pretty good, I enjoyed it a lot.”

Ferdinand went to sit on the bed next to Ryoji and Bob, while Ryoji began to read for them both. He had a very pretty voice, despite the occasional oddities caused by his artificial tongue. Bob quickly fell asleep, but Ferdinand was really engrossed in the story. The two knights started out as rivals, but as the story progressed, they learned to work together rather than against each other: the king’s true objective had been to teach them cooperation. Ryoji only read a few chapters before putting the book aside, his voice a little strained. Ferdinand thanked him profusely.

“All of this reading made me hungry,” Ryoji said with a smile. “Bob, you wanna come grab a snack with me?”

Bob had been dozing off on the floor, but these simple words brought him back on his feet in a flash.

“Hell yeah! I love snacks!”

He then leaned on Ryoji’s, shoulder, grinning, and asked:

“Hey, Ryo my man, me legs are tired, ya mind carryin’ me?”

Ryoji raised his eyebrows.

“Sure, no problem,” he said, picking Bob up and cradling him in his arms, bridal style. “Let’s go.”

Ryoji looked a little sweaty as he carried Bob out of the room – as thick as his arms were, it looked like there wasn’t much in terms of muscle within.

“Hey are you two...” Ferdinand began, unsure.

Ryoji turned toward him, curiously.

“Are we what?”

His brown eyes shone with pure and complete innocence.

“Oh, never you mind.”

Ryoji shrugged, and left with Bob.

**

Around dinner time, Lucien opened up Jordana’s cell, bringing her another food tray. Jordana looked at it with a disgusted expression.

“I don’t like cauliflower. Besides, how can I trust any food you bring me now? Once it was sleeping pills, what will be in this one? Poison?”

“I told everyone I would be the one who brings you food,” Lucien replied, calmly. “I prepared the tray myself, alone in the kitchen – no one could have tampered with it. Now if I wanted to poison you, would that not be a little silly? It would make me the obvious culprit. At any rate, the poison bottles have been thrown into the sewers.”

“Yeah, and how do I know you’re not lying?”

Lucien sighed, and placed the tray on the blue table. They were off to a bad start.

“If you really dislike this place so much, there is always a solution, you know. You could always cooperate-”

“I will not,” Jordana replied sharply. “I don’t trust you, Lucien. You and your good manners, your little hero act, it’s just too much. You’re obviously hiding something.”

“It makes me sad that you trust me so little. What have I done to deserve it?”

“Keep your useless questions for yourself and go away. I may be locked in a cell, but it’s _my_ cell, so get the fuck out.”

Lucien was taken aback by the brutality of her statement. What on earth was going on? Had she even been so aggressive before?

“Jordana, do you hate me specifically, or do you have a problem with priests in general?”

“I have an issue with you specifically,” she replied flatly. “I never liked you, but at least you used to have the decency to keep quiet most of the time.”

“Interesting.”

“By the way, I have no faith in your success either. Your plan is doomed to fail.”

He raised both of his eyebrows. Stranger and stranger.

“Why would that be?”

“There will be another murder, no matter how hard you try to prevent that from happening. Even if you put us all in different jail cells, there _will_ be another murder. Typhaine’s going to be the next culprit.”

For a while, no one said anything. Lucien was highly concerned, and was beginning to feel a little uncomfortable.

“What?” He asked eventually. “What does that even mean?”

“I have good intuitions,” Jordana replied, crossing her arms. “Typhaine will definitely kill someone, it’s written plainly in her eyes.”

“Typhaine is my friend,” Lucien replied coldly. “I have been helping her greatly with her issues, and she will _not_ succumb to the darkness, as long as I live. Where does that even come from? Are you actually paranoid, or do you simply wish to be insulting?”

“There’s no point in denying it. It will happen. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

And on that note, she forcibly threw Lucien out of her cell, and tossed the food tray at his face, staining his clothes and the wall with sauce, before shutting the door angrily.

_Is she completely losing it? What am I supposed to do?_

**

“Will you stop running away from me already? It’s getting insulting.”

Lisa was standing in the water room’s entrance. Typhaine was on the other side, beyond the water basin and looking through the large window.

“I’m sorry Lisa, I just don’t feel like talking right now.”

“Typh’, please! It’s obvious something is bothering you, I just want to know if I can help you in any way. Why ado you look so damn scared? Unlike Florian, I don’t bite.”

Lisa was walking around the basin to join Typhaine, who seemed to be considering an escape. But the more frightened she looked, the angrier Lisa felt. She found it plainly insulting to be trusted so little. Still, she needed to control her temper, or she wouldn’t be any help at all.

“You’ve been like that since Monoblade gave us that motive about secrets. Is this what’s causing you so much pain?”

Typhaine looked away, and took a little object from her pocket. It looked like a set of colorful strings, all messily tied together into a ball. She then sat, resting her back against the wall, and began to sort the threads, then began to intertwine them. Was she… making a bracelet? It would appear to be the case. For a solid minute, she didn’t say anything. Lisa respected her silence, and sat next to her.

“Okay,” Typhaine eventually said. “Now I’m ready to talk to you. It’s… easier if I don’t have to look you in the eyes. It’s also easier if you don’t shout at me.”

“Sorry,” Lisa mumbled. “I know I can be a little forceful at times. So will you tell me what’s going on?”

Typhaine sighed.

“I can’t. But… it’s okay, you know. I’m not alone. Lucien is taking care of me.”

“Do you trust him?”

“Yes, I do. He’s a good man, you know. He’s a bit weird for sure, but he means well.”

Lisa pondered this for a moment.

“It’s good that he has your back, I suppose. But still, I’m worried about you.”

“You’re worried I might do something stupid?” Typhaine asked, very quietly.

A brief silence.

“No, not you,” Lisa replied. “I don’t think you’re the kind who would murder someone, even in extreme circumstances.”

Typhaine finally raised her head to face her.

“But… why?” She asked, almost tearfully. “You barely know me.”

“I have a good feeling about you,” Lisa replied, smiling. “Sure, I could be wrong. I was wrong about Alexander, and I never expected Bertrand to flip out like this. But even so, I want to believe in you.”

“Wow,” was all Typhaine could say.

“I want to help everyone,” Lisa said, staring at the ceiling. “Suzie and Bertrand, they were really suffering, and… I had absolutely no clue. I spoke with Suzie a couple times before the trial, but I never guessed how she felt. I feel like maybe, if they had opened up to me, or any of us, this whole ordeal could have been avoided.”

“You truly care about people,” Typhaine realized.

“Yeah,” Lisa replied. “I meet all sorts of folks on my journeys, and they’re all... good people, deep down. I’ve never met someone who was truly evil, who did bad things just for the sake of it. It’s always fear, fear and ignorance. If we all get to chat, if we get to the bottom of things, there’s hardly anyone we can’t befriend.”

“You really believe that?”

“I do.”

Lisa remained silent for a while.

“You know Typh’, even if you don’t want to talk to me about your secret, that’s fine. But… there’s other things we can do. Make some _crêpes_ , have a casual chat, play a board game...”

“Make some bracelets together?” Typhaine suggested, holding her threads.

“Yeah, that too. You mind teaching me?”

“Not at all.”

**

After their snack, Ryoji and Bob had ventured once more into the sewer maze, fearfully yet courageously. If there was even the tiniest chance they could rescue Suzie before she died, then that chance was worth taking. That was Ryoji’s opinion anyway – Bob believed that the murderer deserved her punishment, and only agreed to come so he could protect his clumsy bro.

They had been walking for hours, but the scenery barely ever changed: each corridor was as damp, smelly and creepy as the previous one.

“I’m real curious about all these plants,” Ryoji was saying. “How did they even grow in there? There’s no light at all.”

“Maybe there used to be sum’ holes in the ceilin’?” Bob suggested.

He was getting cold, despite having decided to wear multiple jackets for the trip, but that was mostly because his shoes were soaked. He was probably going to get sick when he came out.

_What I wouldn’t do for a bro._

Ryoji turned around, and noticed that his friend was shaking. He removed his scarf and wrapped it around Bob’s neck.

“Hey, cut that out,” Bob said. “Ain’tcha gonna be cold?”

“I’m never cold,” Ryoji replied. “I can give you my sweater too if you like.”

Bob considered the offer for a moment. On the one hand, he didn’t want Ryoji to get sick, and felt like he should force him to keep his clothes on. On the other hand, the thought of finding out what Ryoji was wearing underneath that sweater was… oddly pleasing, though Bob had no idea why. Maybe it would be a tank top, that would expose his shoulders, and-

Bob’s train of thoughts was interrupted when his monopad buzzed off in his pocket. Ryoji’s monopad buzzed off as well – it must be the group chat again.

[Gwenn] guys

[Gwenn] check the screens, now

“Aw cool, they changed their name on the thingy,” Bob commented with a smile. “Tha’s sweet.”

“Check the screens?” Ryoji asked, sounding worried. “Does that mean something has happened to Suzie?”

“Uh,” Bob commented. “Dunno. We’re very far from the sewer’s entrance though, whatev’s going on we’re gonna miss it.”

[Ryoji] What’s going on? Bob and I are in the sewers, we can’t see!

For a while, no reply came. When the screen lit again, Ryoji was surprised to receive a text from…

“Monoblade?”

“What duzzy say?” Bob asked, sniffling.

“He says we can see it from our monopads, if we use a certain app… let me look for it. There!”

There was a new app on the screen, the icon looked a lot like Suzie’s head. When Ryoji tapped on it, the video feed took up the whole screen. He crouched so that Bob could see the screen too.

Suzie was still in the sewers, but had reached a new and larger room. The ceiling was much higher than in other places, and the water split in two segments. In the middle rested a large hexagonal stone platform, thick, solid and covered in moss. A white bed was lying in the middle, with something on it.

Suzie’s legs were still in the water, her arms and head were resting onto the platform. She was breathing very slowly. She looked completely exhausted.

“C’mon,” came Monoblade’s irritating voice. “Get out of there! Your punishment is almost finished!”

He was standing on the little platform, but jumped away when Suzie raised her head to look at him. She painfully crawled out of the water, and stood up on the platform. The hospital bed in front of her was white and pristine, looking completely out of place in this gloomy setting. A sort of weird human-sized doll was resting on top of it.

“Izat s’posed to be Julie?” Bob asked.

“I think so,” Ryoji replied, frowning. “I recognize the glasses, and the dress. But why…?”

The doll’s belly was inflated like a balloon, and a robotic female voice erupted from its head.

“Suzie, you have to help me, I’m in labor!”

Suzie blinked in shock. Her arms were shaking, she looked like she was about to collapse any second.

“Mom?” She asked in a raspy voice, before losing herself in a fit of coughs. “M-mom is that you?”

 _Whut?_ Bob wondered. _Is she hallucinatin’ or some stuff?_

Suzie was screaming now.

“Mom! Mom, don’t move, it’s okay, I’ll help you!”

“Please Suzie, release me from this pain!” Replied the robot.

Suzie fell on her knees in front of the bed, and began to undress the doll. It was a very unsettling sight for some reason: but the worst of it were Suzie’s eyes. For all the time that Bob had known her, she had never looked so _happy_. She was crying tears of joy as she was helping the doll give birth to… what was that thing even supposed to be?

A head came out of the doll’s womb, then arms, then a body. It looked like a baby, but it was made of metal, and a weird green liquid was leaking from its eyes and articulations. Suzie didn’t react when the liquid came in contact with her skin, but it burned her hands badly. Still, her moves were practical: even in a deep state of exhaustion, she knew how to help a woman give birth, and soon she was cradling the robotic baby in her arms, careless of the acid that was burning her skin off.

“Thank you Suzie,” the robot said. “But you shouldn’t have done that. This baby… will be my undoing.”

“Huh?” Suzie asked. “What does that mean?”

“Look at it, my dear Suzie, look.”

Bob had no idea what Suzie saw in this baby, and why it seemed to hurt her so badly. She screamed in rage and pain, clutching the robot tighter, and Bob had to look away, because the damage that she was doing to herself was too much for him to bear. Eventually the robot exploded -oh, so it had been a bomb the whole time?- and the camera feed cut off, after briefly showing the state of Suzie’s corpse. Ryoji was sobbing.

“Each time they get worse,” he cried. “Why are they even doing this? What’s the point?”

Bob didn’t know how to comfort him, so he awkwardly put his hand on Ryoji’s back, and began to rub it.

“There’s no point in findin’ out, I think,” he said quietly. “No reason in the world could possibly make this okay. They kill, and tha’s that. If it’s any comfort, at least now she finally ain’t sufferin’ anymore.”

Bob had no idea if Ryoji had even heard him. He grabbed his hand, and held it in his, tightly. There was a time for words, and there was a time for silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suzie's death portrait: https://imgur.com/a/dXmezDd


	26. Carpentry, Chess and Divine Light

The next day began, and Lucien’s plan was in motion. For starters, everyone was supposed to be out of bed and in the parking lot by 6am for the morning exercise session, which lasted one hour, and was directed by Lisa (because even though Lucien was a little crazy, he wasn’t crazy enough to let Rebecca run something like that again). Bob was especially pouty from being forced out of bed so soon, and the fact that he was assigned breakfast duty did nothing to improve his mood.

During breakfast, Monoblade came to deliver another motive. It was called the “freeway motive” - in the next three days, any student could murder one of their classmates without going through a class trial later. It was a little concerning, but as Aphrodite remarked, it was probably one of the least threatening motives they had had since the start of the killing game.

After breakfast, the students had an hour of free time. Next came the morning prayer, accompanied with a sermon, and Lucien finished it with a little class about the history of Catholicism. Next came Ferdinand’s geography lesson (which was very strange, considering Ferdinand had been to so many places without ever _seeing_ much of it), and after that another hour of free time before lunch. Typhaine was on lunch duty and made soup for everyone: they all agreed that it was the best soup they had ever tasted, including Florian (though reluctantly).

The afternoon began with the group being split in two. Lucien made two teams called the manuals and intellectuals: the manuals would be gathering wood and tools from the workshop, while the intellectuals would decide what the manuals would be working on, and would draw plans for them.

“It can be anything: the point is to have a project that unites the whole group,” Lucien had explained. “But since none of us are experts in carpentry, keep it simple.”

Gwenn, Aphrodite, Ryoji, Magalie, Typhaine and Florian were gathered around a table in the restaurant lounge, discussing what they would present as their community project. Typhaine suggested a pool (because: “It’s just a hole with water inside, should be easy!”), but Gwenn argued that it would be too hard to keep the water clean. Aphrodite suggested a windmill, but the project was discarded on account of being too difficult. Eventually Ryoji proposed a little shack, and everyone agreed that it’d be the simplest option.

Meanwhile, Lucien was pleading with Monoblade, asking if they could have some wood planks for their construction plans. The workshop provided all the tools they could need, but lacked in terms of basic materials – and they couldn’t get the materials from the facility or exterior itself, because damaging it was against the rules. Monoblade agreed, but only because “It’s such a weirdo request, I’m just super curious as to what you’re going to make of it now.”

The wood would only arrive the next day, so in the meantime the intellectual team was sent to the office to read some of the books, and the manual team was asked to get some extra exercise.

There was another break at 4pm, then Gwenn’s gardening lesson. They were supposed to work with Florian, but the florist refused to give any class of any sort to “A bunch of rude buffoons who would understand nothing to the art of flower-arranging anyway.” To that statement, Rebecca had complained about his rudeness, and it had been agreed that Florian would cool his temper by spending an hour in jail with Jordana. (“This feels a lot like monopoly all of a second”, Gwenn said at some point). After the gardening lesson (which was one of the most entertaining ones, despite Gwenn having to work with very limited resources) came Magalie’s history class. She talked about medieval monks, saying they were a lot greedier than what people usually accounted them for. Lastly, Ryoji’s relaxation session took place in the elevator room, before Ferdinand took care of cooking dinner.

“How does it feel to cook some food that you can barely see?” Gwenn asked during dinner.

“It is a very strange sensation,” Ferdinand admitted. “I always forget what various foods taste like, because until they get into my mouth, I have no clue what they even _are_.”

“Huh.”

Lucien insisted on ending the day with another prayer, though by this point everyone was pretty much exhausted (except for Lisa who was bursting with energy, as usual). Then (finally) everyone was released from their duties, and had free time for the rest of the evening.

The next day followed a similar pattern, the only difference being with who was assigned to cooking, or the type of class that were to take place at certain hours. For a class of students who had spent most of their days being idle and bored, this was a rather brutal change. For Rebecca and Lisa it was welcome: Lisa because she could finally do something with her energy, Rebecca because it gave her a way to run from her crushing sense of guilt. Florian benefited from it was well: it gave him an excuse to hang out with the others, which he had secretly wanted to do all along. For a while he remained cold and awkward, but he eventually warmed up to Aphrodite and Magalie, managing to be _nearly_ nice with them. He still seemed to have a problem with Ryoji however – with the tall boy he was rude at best, and frankly aggressive when he felt insecure. More than once he got into a fight with Bob, and each time both boys ended up in Jordana’s cell (but they didn’t have such a bad time – Jordana enjoyed being the jail-keeper, and made every jail-time a pleasant event, sharing some tea and singing for her guests).

Typhaine and Magalie were also reasonably happy with the new routine, mostly for the classes and a bit less for the community project part, which they simply didn’t get. Typhaine was also one of the most devoted during the prayers, and cooked some bread that could serve as hosts for the mass. She even roped Gwenn into brewing grape juice (“So we can have the body AND the blood of the Christ!”). Gwenn had always thought christian rituals were a little odd, but was still glad to share some grape juice with their buds.

For some it wasn’t that easy. Bob felt tense most of the time, he didn’t seem to enjoy the strict timetable and constantly complained about the loss of his liberty. He was also considerably pissed to be on the manual team while Ryoji was on the intellectual one, because it meant that they were kept apart during most of the afternoon. Aphrodite thought Lucien’s routine was clever, because keeping everyone busy was one of the smartest ways to prevent a murder from taking place again – but she was worried about how Lucien handled authority. He essentially used Ferdinand and Rebecca as his dogs whenever he needed to punish someone, but how would he determine who needed to be punished, how and what for? Everyone seemed to be following him for now, but if a more serious insubordination arose, how would he react? She believed that things could quickly escalate toward violence, but whenever she tried to warn him about this issue, he tended to change the subject.

Still, as the days went by, the campus was transformed. The construction of the shack (also called Swedish cabin project) progressed slowly. After three days of hard work, the manual team was barely done with the foundations. But it was _something_ now, in the middle of the muddy parking lot: the beginning of the framework of what would soon be a new building. On top of that, Lucien had decided that once every week, the facility’s walls would be repainted with some very bright colors (borrowed at Monoblade’s expense once again). Not even the torture room looked as creepy when a large pink sun had been painted on the operating table. Florian’s garden grew lush and fluffy: he had managed to grow roses, _ipomées_ , sunflowers, among a large bed of weeds which he didn’t want to trim. He even had a bamboo tree in there, which puzzled everyone quite a lot, but made Ryoji very happy.

But plants weren’t the only things: bird sightings were more and more frequents, and Typhaine could have sworn she had spotted a cat beyond the gates at night, though it had run away before she could call it. Nature was healing, the facility was transformed, and each day Monoblade grew more and more puzzled as his “kids” thrived in an environment which he no longer controlled.

And thus three days had passed, and for the second time since their arrival, the students had beaten one of Monoblade’s motive. But Monoblade was a rather patient bear: he knew they would crack under pressure sooner or later. Thus it was quite confidently that he came to the breakfast table on the fourth day, to deliver another one.

“I see you bastards don’t really care for murders without class trials. Can’t say I blame you really. Well, in the meantime, I’m still bored, and you’re still not getting out of here, so I had to think of something else.”

“And what is it this time?” Aphrodite asked.

“I call this one the ‘science motive’. You all must be fairly curious about this killing game, right? Its reason for existing, the identity of the kidnappers, what’s going on outside, all of that?”

“Yes,” Ryoji replied honestly.

“Well I’m ready to give some answers!” Monoblade shouted cheerfully. “Just call me whenever you like, and I’ll spill the beans!”

“Huh? Okay that’s hella suspicious,” Gwenn said, frowning. “How do we know you’re not just gonna bullshit everything?”

“I could, honestly,” Monoblade said. “But I have evidence with me, I can basically prove that I’m not lying.”

“Okay, then whuss the catch?” Bob asked gloomily. “When does murder come in the story?”

“24 hours later, to be extremely specific,” Monoblade replied, making little dance moves. “Anyone can request the secret info, but as soon as you have it, you have 24 hours to murder someone. And if you don’t, naturally I’ll execute you.”

“All right, thank you,” Lucien cut in before Bob could reply. “This is all very curious indeed, but none of us are interested. After all, who would risk their life for some irrelevant information?”

“Irrelevant?” Aphrodite asked, sounding a little shocked (but only a little).

“Indeed. We are not going to fight the kidnappers by playing their game, because we would only be pleasing them. The best way to fight them is to ignore the temptations they keep throwing at us: much like the devil tempts the weak souls to sin.”

“That makes sense, I guess.”

Lisa felt herself getting up from her chair, slowly. She felt completely numb, like a person walking at the bottom of a coursing river. Everyone turned to look at her, but her eyes were fixed on Monoblade.

“Who _are_ you?” she bluntly asked.

“Huh? What kind of a question is that? I’m not just going to-”

“Your accent, the way you talk, how you keep calling us ‘kids’ - are you going to try and hide it any longer? I know who you are.”

Monoblade couldn’t sweat, but it looked like if he could, he would be sweating bullets at the moment.

“Uh, are you sure you’re not making a wild guess-”

“You seriously thought you could hide your identity from your own daughter?”

Silence. Then:

“What?”

That was from Gwenn. Or perhaps it was Magalie? Lisa wasn’t paying attention. She was trembling with rage.

“It’s not enough that I’m forced to play a killing game, my own _dad_ has to be among the kidnappers,” she said, visibly trying to control her temper. “Even the CDs you gave us for the costume party, it’s your music tastes. You didn’t even _try_ to hide who you are. Why? Why are you doing this?”

“Hold on Lisa,” Lucien said, getting up. “Are you sure you are not jumping to conclu-”

“No, she’s right,” Monoblade said in an uncharacteristically quiet tone. “I don’t know how on earth I expected to be able to hide my identity from my own daughter. Pretty stupid if you think about it.”

“Wait,” Ferdinand said, getting up as well. “This has to be some kind of joke! You are her _father_ , you cannot possibly-”

“Disgusting,” Lucien cut in, sounding horrified. “I never foresaw such a horrifying truth.”

“What the hell,” Bob whispered.

“Is that really true?” Aphrodite asked, putting a hand on her heart.

Lisa was crying by now, and Rebecca had rushed up to hug her from behind.

“Why?” Lisa asked. “Why are you doing this?”

She cried, sniffled and sobbed, burying her face in her hands.

Monoblade only laughed. It was a joyless laugh, which sounded oddly like a bark.

“To be fair, this whole thing has gone beyond my control,” he said, sounding almost… relieved? “The killing game was my idea, sure, but I can no longer make any big decisions. I can’t save any of you bastards, even if I wanted to!”

“You need help,” Lisa replied. “You should be in a hospital, not controlling a bear mascot for a killing game.”

“Maybe I am in a hospital, for all I know?” Monoblade replied, tilting his head to one side. “Maybe I’m in a coma and I’m just hallucinating all of this.”

“What happened to you?” Lisa asked, rubbing her eyes. “Or… were you always like that, even when I was little?”

“Hey, enough with it already,” Monoblade snapped. “I’m still your enemy here. You’d better forget we’re related, it won’t get you anywhere.”

“How could you!” Ferdinand roared. “How can you brush it off like it matters not? How can you admit defeat so casually? She is your _daughter!_ Should you not be willing to try anything for her?”

“The most I can do for her at this point is die,” Monoblade replied with a laugh. “And then you’d all see a fresh new Monoblade, repeating the same boring lines every day, and bringing you the motives like before. It wouldn’t change anything.”

“Then die,” Magalie said darkly. “You deserve it after what you’ve done to us.”

“You know, maybe I should,” Monoblade replied, pondering. “But I’m kinda curious to see how class trial 3 goes, so… maybe I won’t.”

“You make no goddamn sense,” Bob complained angrily. “What the fuck is wrong with yer head?”

“He’s clearly not in his right mind,” Aphrodite said calmly. “I think there’s little point in being rational with him. We’ll only hurt more.”

Rebecca was leaving the scene with Lisa, quickly followed by Ryoji. Monoblade shrugged.

“Well, the motive still stands, at any rate. You got part of the truth today, but there’s still way more to learn about! So like, enjoy the happy murders and stuff.”

And just like that, he disappeared, leaving a completely bewildered assembly at the breakfast table, unable to process the madness which had just taken place.

**

Rebecca and Ryoji sat Lisa on one of the beds in room 104, wrapping her in a blanket. Ryoji left to make her a hot chocolate, while Rebecca remained with her, keeping a hand on her back.

“How was your dad like?” She asked after what seemed like an eternal silence.

“I’m trying to remember,” Lisa replied, sadly. “I only lived with him when I was a child. He and mom were very… overprotective. I was their only child, and I couldn’t go anywhere without their approval.”

“Oh boy,” Rebecca said with a tired smile. “I can’t imagine that going well.”

“It was fine at first. I had less freedom than the other kids, but my parents were rich as hell, so it compensated for it. But I sorta began to feel lonely at some point, to envy the others. When I tried to rebel, it got worse. It felt like being in jail. We got in a ton of fights. I ran away from home on more than one occasion.”

“On bike?”

“Yeah. Biking always meant freedom to me, no wonder I like it so much. Then my parents divorced, my dad left the house, my mom fell into depression, and I went to live with my aunt. So like… I remember my dad’s voice, playing with him as a child, I remember that he loved me a lot, I remember… his clothes, his smell, I remember his cooking and the way he snores. But I don’t remember his personnality, because I was too young to understand it back then. Even now, I have no idea how any of that could have happened.”

Ryoji was back with the hot chocolate, which Lisa was glad to drink. Her throat felt really dry.

“Guys, is it okay if you stay with me for a little while?” Lisa asked, a little weakly. “Just to chill for a bit?”

“Of course,” Ryoji said, rubbing his watery eyes. “Anything for you.”

**

Aphrodite remained with Lucien at the restaurant. Both were thinking very intensely.

“You think he was telling the truth?” Aphrodite eventually asked. “You think Monoblade could truly be Lisa’s father?”

“What reasons could possibly compel him to lie?” Lucien asked.

“Assuming this killing game is being broadcast as some form of entertainment, such a plot twist could be a way to keep the story interesting. Maybe I’m being paranoid, but I find it hard to believe _anything_ after the huge conspiracy about Lorient, and the toxic air.”

“But do you believe Lisa could truly be mistaken about something like that?” Lucien countered.

“Hm. Maybe not. Well, if it’s true it’s crucial information at any rate. We should think about it thoroughly.”

“Indeed. But what does that tell us? Is Lisa’s father renowned in any way?”

“If I recall, Lisa is the daughter of Pénélope Tardi, director of the GTU. That would make Monoblade her ex-husband.”

“Ex-husband?”

“It is common knowledge that she is a divorced woman. Tardi is her maiden name.”

“Divorced, hm,” Lucien said. “Do you believe revenge could be the motive, then? Let us assume Lisa’s father felt hateful toward his ex-wife: forcing her students to participate in a killing game would be a solid way to have his revenge. He could even frame her for it, thus ruining her reputation.”

“It’s not impossible,” Aphrodite admitted. “It could be his original motive anyway. Monoblade _did_ say he lost control of the killing game though: that means he was originally pulling the strings, but he’s been overpowered. But by whom?”

“This is highly frustrating. We finally have new information, but we are still no closer to understanding our kidnappers’ goal.”

“Still, if Monoblade isn’t in control anymore, that means we might be able to rally him on our side,” Aphrodite replied. “Whoever is pulling his strings… that’s our common enemy.”

“Do you really believe he would be willing to cooperate with us, after all of this?”

“I believe nothing. But I’m willing to try anything.”

**

Florian had been to the robot room (or whatever it was called), inspecting the plants under the glass. The ultimate biologist might have been a genius when it came to chemical manipulations, but he certainly had no sense of style. Plants, similarly to flowers, had to be _arranged_. You couldn’t just let nature do its work and expect any harmony or style, it simply didn’t work that way. (Someone might have argued that _style_ was irrelevant to the ultimate biologist’s goals, but Florian’s inner monologue didn’t care about such technicalities). He eventually found what he had been looking for (sprinklers for the garden) and left the room. Much to his surprise, Magalie was sitting in _his_ garden, staring at _his_ flowers, stroking _his_ grass with her fingers. What on earth was she doing there? She looked pensive. Florian’s first instinct was to order her to go away, but he realized that it would be too rude, even for him.

“Would you please...” he began, unsure of how to phrase his thoughts.

“Hi,” Magalie said in return. “Can I talk with you for a moment?”

“No. This is about Ferdinand right? I’m not apologizing to this moron, end of the story.”

“Is that so,” Magalie replied, pensively.

Then she picked one of the flowers. Florian’s eyes widened in shock.

“Don’t do that!” He yelled in terror. “You don’t know how hard it was to grow these!”

“Was it now?” She asked calmly. “So tell me Florian, flowers matter to you more than people?”

He walked in her direction, staring at the girl from above.

“Is this going to become some sort of stupid therapy session? Give me a _break.”_

“Just answer the question,” Magalie replied, getting up.

Much to Florian’s frustration, she was taller than him. He crossed his arms and avoided her gaze.

“I don’t know,” he eventually said. “I care a lot about my garden and I don’t want you ruining it. Is that weird?”

“Not especially. What is weird is that you expect me to be nice to you when you continually treat everyone like shit. It’s not very logical, is it?”

Florian grunted, huffed and puffed, but realized he had no rebuttal. It was such a simple thing, but he couldn’t exactly deny it.

“What do you want?” He eventually asked, sounding exasperated. “You want me to say sorry to your friend, right? But it’s not my fault, I had no idea his eyesight was so poor – when I called him a coward, it’s because I believed him to be one. Anyone would have made that assumption!”

He waited for Magalie to agree with him, but she said nothing of the sort. The silence was beginning to get awkward, but it seemed to be what she wanted. He eventually searched her gaze again, but he couldn’t read her facial expression.

“What?” He asked, meekly. “What did I say?”

“I’d like you to realize something. Did I mention Ferdinand even _once_ during this conversation?”

Florian frowned, turned around and sighed. He didn’t want to be with this girl anymore.

“I don’t know, why is that important? Cut to the point already!”

“All right. Here’s the problem: before this conversation even _started_ , you already knew what I was going to tell you, and you already had an answer ready. How do you expect to have a real conversation with anyone if you don’t even give them a chance to express themselves? For all you know, I simply came here because I was curious about the ways of flower-arranging.”

“Oh, _of course_ that’s what you wanted,” Florian snarled. “Don’t bullshit me.”

“It is though,” Magalie said. “It’s all I wanted. You know, maybe you should… relax a bit? You’ll find that people don’t hate you nearly as much as you think. Despite your best efforts on that front, might I add.”

She waited a little, then left the garden without another word. Florian sat on the grass, buried his head into his hands, and began to cry in frustration. He had rarely felt so stupid in his entire existence.

**

After talking with Florian, Magalie went to visit Jordana. Back when Julie had been alive, only her and Suzie held the key to her prison. Lucien, judging that this system was far too dangerous for they key bearers, kept it in free access to anyone who wasn’t a prisoner. Naturally, it presented a new risk: if anyone felt like freeing Jordana, they had the power to do so – but then, the ‘police’ would come after them, so there was still a relative security.

Jordana was singing when Magalie arrived in the hallway. She was singing in french for once – it seemed to be a new song. The lyrics went something like “Lucien stinks, he’s the worst leader in history, no one should ever trust him.” Magalie, being a historian, knew that there had been plenty of far worse leaders in history. Still, she waited until the song was over before she knocked on the door.

“Come in!” Came Jordana’s cheerful voice. “Oh I was expecting you my dear, please take a seat.”

Jordana was wearing a pink crop-top, tight jean shorts, and both her arms were covered with a large collection of bracelets. Her makeup was flawless – as usual, she looked like she could perform on stage in front of thousands of people the next instant if someone called her.

“You expected me to arrive?” Magalie asked in surprise, putting the tea tray that she had brought on a desk.

“Indeed! I somehow knew you’d come. I have these intuitions, you know. They rarely fail me.”

“Interesting,” Magalie replied in a neutral tone. “Say, what’s the new door all about?”

On the opposite end of the classroom, a new door had been cut into the wall. A sign had been taped on it, which read “work in progress, please be patient”.

“Monoblade is having a new bathroom built,” Jordana explained. “Since we like to imprison people so much, he thought it could eventually come in handy. I’m not complaining, it’s much nicer than having to use a chamber pot.”

“Much less awkward, I assume,” Magalie admitted.

“So why did you come to visit me? Do you plan on asking something dramatic like ‘Jordana, what’s your objective?’ Or perhaps you’re here to give me a sermon? Or to flirt. I’ve had all kinds of visits since I’ve been in jail, honestly it’s hard to get bored with you people around.”

Magalie sat.

“Are you always this… intense?” She eventually asked.

“Whatever could you mean?”

“You understood me. You’re always putting on an act, but… do you ever do _simple_ things? Like, play a board game? Have a chat with someone? Watch a movie?”

“We’re in a killing game my dear, and you’re asking me why I don’t watch movies and play board games?”

“It’s not that silly. If you keep being on edge all the time, you’ll just be exhausting yourself. Sure, we’re in a killing game, but do you have to take it so seriously? Do you believe it’s going to save you?”

“I survived this long.”

“With the odds against you,” Magalie reminded her. “You’re a very easy target here, and you know it.”

“So that’s why you came,” Jordana said, pushing her seat back a little. “You’re the ‘therapy-session’ kind of visitor. Can’t say I saw that one coming.”

“Quit dodging the issue,” Magalie groaned in frustration.

“All right, fine, you win! It’s true, sometimes I wish I could be a bit more casual, a bit more honest. But it’s a bit late for that, don’t you think? Everyone is pretty much afraid of me, for very good reasons.”

“Gwenn is terrified of you, but that doesn’t mean we’re _all_ afraid. You said you got a lot of visits, didn’t you?”

“It’s true, I do. And you’re here tonight, and you were nice enough to bring me some tea! Mayhaps we could partake in one of those deliciously ordinary activities that young women such as ourselves enjoy?”

Magalie rolled her eyes.

“Weirdo. Yeah, let’s… play a game or something.”

As it turned out, Jordana had a small chess board in her suitcase. The board and pieces were made of wood, and carved very finely – it must have cost a fortune. They played three games, and Magalie lost each time. She simply didn’t have the patience to coordinate her moves properly, and made stupid mistakes all the time. Still, it was endearing to see Jordana enjoying herself so much: she was positively beaming throughout the whole session, and made Magalie promise to come back when they parted at the end.

“Well,” Magalie said once she found herself alone again, “that wasn’t so hard, was it? These people, I swear.”

She found Ferdinand alone in hospital room 101, in the midst of having a panic attack, but she thankfully managed to appease him before it could get out of control. He was having a rough time, so she offered to read him a chapter from his favorite book. Next she tucked him in bed and kissed him on the forehead before wishing him a good night.

“I’m surrounded by babies,” she chuckled to herself as she left to have a shower.

“You are, this is very true, I am a baby,” Ferdinand agreed. “Sorry to cause you so much trouble all the time.”

“It’s okay,” Magalie said, turning the lights off. “I’m just happy to look after you.”

_And everyone else apparently. But if I have to be everyone’s mom, who will be mine?_

**

“Are you finally ready for step two?”

“Yes, I am. But… Lucien, I want to talk with you first.”

Typhaine was sitting on his bed, wearing her pajamas and hugging a cute little cow plushie. Lucien was still wearing his monk robes, despite the late hour. He looked as serene as usual.

“What do you wish to know?”

“You told me once that you had been blessed by the Lord when you were a child. May I learn more about that?”

Lucien opened his eyes, and smiled. He rarely did, but it made Typhaine’s heart melt each time.

“Of course, gladly. As you already know, I was only eight at the time. Back then I knew nothing of the Lord, I knew nothing of Heaven and Hell, I knew nothing of sin and virtue, I was an ignorant child born in a family of irreligious.”

“Your parents didn’t believe…?”

“They did not. In fact, they mocked the christian church and our beliefs. Being a naïve child, I believed they held the truth back then.”

“But then...”

“We were invited to a wedding,” Lucien explained. “And when I stepped into the church, the light fell onto me. And I knew then, that I was blessed, that I had been chosen to guide people toward the same light. It felt good, I felt _pure_ for the first time in my existence. I knew I was in the right place, and I knew what I had to do. Jesus was not only by my side that day, he _inhabited_ me.”

“Inhabited?” Typhaine repeated in shock, covering her mouth with her hands.

“Indeed. He sensed my fears and eased them. He sensed my doubts and cleared my mind. To this day, he is still with me.”

“He is… still with you?”

“Yes. If you hold my hand, you might feel him too,” Lucien said with a smile.

It was obvious that he truly believed in what he was saying, and that Typhaine believed him too. When she took his hand, she mirrored his smile, it almost brought tears into her eyes.

“He loves us,” she said, her voice trembling. “The Lord really loves us.”

“Of course he does,” Lucien replied, beaming. “He is love personified.”

“I want to be like you. To guide people toward the light.”

“You can,” Lucien said confidently. “I know you have enough faith in you.”

“But I also want to… feel the light,” Typhaine whispered. “Just for a little longer.”

“How so?”

Typhaine whispered something in his ear. Lucien’s smile didn’t falter.

“I see. I believe this too, could cleanse your soul. I whole-heartedly agree.”

Typhaine giggled and cuddled her plushie. She had rarely looked so happy and so excited. Slowly, carefully, she grabbed her cap with both hands, and put it on the bed beside her. Then she placed her hands on Lucien’s knees, raised her head at his face’s level, and kissed him passionately. To truly feel the Lord _inside_ of him.


	27. Prison, Ghosts, and a New Friend

The next day, Lisa woke up feeling cold and lonely. She could still hardly believe Monoblade was her _dad_. It hardly made any sense to her – why he would do something like that in the first place. She remembered him as a caring man, shy and awkward even. How could he have turned into Monoblade? When? Why?

Speaking of, the robot was in her room, standing on Ryoji bed. He and Lisa were the only people in room 104.

“Hi,” she said, sounding unsure of what he wanted. “Did you sleep well?”

“No, I didn’t, uh… I felt like we needed to talk, maybe.”

“Sure.”

Lisa got up and made her bed – somehow, now that she knew her dad was watching her, she felt like she had to. Maybe she should clean the place up later. There was dust everywhere.

“What should we do?” Dad was asking. “Do we pretend like we don’t know, or…?”

“You have no way of stopping the killing game, is that correct?” Lisa asked.

“I can’t. I could die trying, but that’d just be useless, wouldn’t it?”

“And you can’t tell us why the killing game needs to continue, or who’s running it?”

“No, I can’t do that either. You kids are, uh… s’posed to figure it out on your own. It’s part of the game, I think.”

“Is that so,” Lisa said in a neutral tone.

She turned to face the robot.

“You’re not my dad. The dad I remember would have never done something so stupid like organizing a killing game with his own daughter among the participants. He’d never have spouted some nonsense about the joy of killing, and the sadistic pleasure of watching others suffer. So you see, it’s easy, right? We don’t have to pretend, because you’re not my dad.”

“But… I am though.”

“You may be my biological father, but the person I knew is dead. I don’t have to consider you as part of my family. Sure, it was heartbreaking to learn about your identity, but what does it change in the end? We’re still enemies: let’s keep acting like enemies.”

“I know I said that yesterday, but-”

“Don’t expect me to have mercy for a bloodthirsty dictator simply because we share the same DNA. There. Clear enough for you?”

“Cristal clear!” Monoblade replied with his usual cheer. “I hope you die!”

“That’s better.”

Monoblade shot through the ceiling, laughing like a maniac. Lisa exited her room and walked toward the restaurant. There were many, many thoughts crashing through her brain in a very messy pile.

_It was the right thing to do. It’s too late for him to redeem himself, and I can’t be burdened by unnecessary feelings._ _I’ll feel sad for him when I get out of this creepy place._

When she reached the restaurant, some people were shouting. Oh, had a fight broken out? Just great. Exactly what she needed.

“… can’t last no more, I’m done with yer shit!” Bob yelled. “If ya think I’m gonna letcha play the tyrant, you’re mistaken!”

“But all I try to do is maintain peace and harmony,” Lucien replied calmly, hands joined in a prayer. “Why would you get in my way like this?”

“Harmony my ass, y’only care about yerself! Dun’t serve me that bullshit now, I’m _done.”_

“Bob, I beg you to calm down!” Ferdinand was shouting, trying to prevent Bob from punching Lucien in the face.

“Ferdinand, Rebecca, I believe Robert needs to spend some time with Jordana,” Lucien said. “We will speak of this again, once he has cooled his temper, shall we?”

“Fuck you!” Bob yelled as he was being taken away from the restaurant by Rebecca and Ferdinand.

Lisa blinked.

“What’s going on?” She asked, putting both hands on her hips.

“Our friend Robert throwing a temper tantrum,” Lucien replied. “Do not worry about it.”

“He’s just salty because we force him to get up early,” Typhaine said, sticking her tongue out.

“Is that really the case?” Lisa asked, circumspect. “He seemed really mad about something.”

“He was saying the morning prayer shouldn’t be mandatory,” Aphrodite explained. “Which I don’t necessarily disagree with,” she added, glaring at Lucien. “Why didn’t you let him talk?”

“Because he was trying to punch me,” Lucien replied, calm as ever. “We cannot have a rational debate in these conditions, can we?”

“But it’s not the first time he’s raised an opposition like this,” Aphrodite countered. “And each time he does, you lock him up. That doesn’t really seem fair to me.”

“Who cares!” Typhaine shouted. “Let’s have breakfast, I’m starving.”

 _“I_ care,” Lisa said. “He’s my friend, and his opinion matters. If you’re not going to listen to him, I think I’m just going to go to jail with him.”

“Same here,” Aphrodite said. “Ryoji, will you come too?”

“Of course,” Ryoji said. “I’m worried about him, I hope he’s okay.”

“As you wish,” Lucien said, sadly. “You will be missed. Especially you Aphrodite, you were supposed to hold the sewing class this morning. What will we do without you?”

“You’ll figure something out,” Aphrodite replied without an ounce of compassion.

The three of them left the room together, crossing the parking lot. They met Ferdinand and Rebecca in the north wing’s hallway.

“What are you doing?” Rebecca asked curiously. “Aren’t you supposed to have breakfast with the others?”

“We’re turning ourselves in,” Lisa said with a grin. “Jail us please, o mighty policewoman.”

“Is that a jest?” Ferdinand asked, sounding concerned.

“No, it’s not,” Aphrodite replied. “We’re going to spend the day in jail with Bob, to show our support.”

“Huh,” Rebecca said. “Whatever floats your boat I guess?”

Her and Ferdinand led the three rogue students to the prison, and locked the door as they left.

“Well look who it is,” Jordana said with a chuckle. “This place is getting positively overcrowded. Good thing Monoblade’s team is finally done with the new bathroom.”

“Oh hey guys!” Bob shouted happily. “Whatchu all doin’ here?”

“We didn’t want to leave you alone,” Ryoji explained. “We’re going to spend the day here with you.”

“I should have brought a book,” Aphrodite complained. “It’s too late now.”

“At least you have enough sense to rebel against Lucien,” Jordana said, smirking. “Finally realized what he’s trying to do?”

“I’m not sure yet, but if he’s going to rule unfairly, I won’t let him have his way.”

“Well said!” Bob shouted. “I mean, Julie used to boss us around a bit, but she listened when we had sum’thin’ to say about it, right? And she didn’t need some dogs to keep the peace either.”

“I’m afraid this situation is going to become problematic soon enough,” Aphrodite said, shaking her head.

“It’s time to revolt, baby!” Lisa shouted happily.

“Well, maybe not right now though,” Bob said, adjusting his beanie. “We haven’t had breakfast yet.”

“I think you can forget about breakfast,” Jordana replied with another giggle. “Lucien is probably going to _conveniently_ forget to feed us, you’ll see. He does that to remind us who’s boss.”

“He’s done it before?” Ryoji asked, sounding horrified.

“Indeed, plenty of times,” Jordana said. “Whenever I would displease him, in fact. Your case will not be different.”

“Hey, that’s uncool,” Lisa said. “I didn’t know it was that bad, but the more we learn, the more it feels like Lucien deserves a good punch in the face.”

“Agreed!” Bob replied. “Can’t believe Ferd stopped me, I almost had ‘im.”

Still, revolt would have to wait, sine there was no way to escape from the prison cell. In the meantime, the group played _Never have I ever,_ improvised a play about arranged marriage (with Bob as the protagonist and Ryoji as his dashing _fiancée_ ), talked about global warming, and napped on the floor together. Bob was the only one who managed to actually fall asleep, however.

Lunch came at 2pm. It was delivered by Lucien, and the portions were definitely poorer than they should be.

“Oh Lucien, would you mind talking with me for a moment?” Jordana said, batting her eyelashes and imitating his prayer gesture.

“What is it? Have you finally agreed to cooperate for the greater good?” Lucien asked as he was about to leave.

“Maybe I have,” Jordana said mysteriously. “Can I come with you?”

“If you promise that you will not cause any trouble.”

“Oh, I won’t. I’m too tired for that anyway. You can’t get a decent sleep in that stupid prison cell.”

Lucien shrugged, and they left the room together.

“They’re not letting us out?” Ryoji asked curiously. “Usually Bob would only spend the morning in jail, not the whole day.”

“Maybe he expected us to say we wanted to leave,” Aphrodite pondered.

Bob snored. Lisa crouched next to him, then waved a hand in front of his face.

“Wow, he’s really deep asleep, huh.”

“He’s a pretty heavy sleeper, yeah,” Ryoji said, as he grabbed his plate and a glass of water (he looked for a place to sit, and remembered that all the chairs had been confiscated – sighing, he sat on the floor). He whimpered when he inspected the contents of his plate: three tiny potatoes, and a bit of sauce.

“What is it?” Aphrodite asked as she took her plate. “You don’t like potatoes?”

“I love them, I just hoped for more,” he complained. “Damn, being a prisoner is a tough job.”

Lisa went to sit next to him, and grabbed her plate too.

“At least we can take Jordana’s portion. It doesn’t look like she’ll be coming back any time soon.”

“I wonder what that’s all about,” Aphrodite commented.

“I think she just wanted to get out,” Ryoji pondered. “With all of us in this tiny room, it _does_ feel a little crowded.”

“I bet she’ll be back here in less than a day,” Lisa chimed in. “She can’t help herself.”

They finished their meal in silence. Bob was still snoring. Lisa suddenly remembered she wanted to talk about something – it was the perfect occasion.

“Hey Ryo, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure, what is it?”

“How do you feel about Bob?”

Ryoji blushed a little.

“Is that a trick question?”

“Not at all, I’m just curious.”

“Oh, okay. I… I dunno actually”, Ryoji said, looking at his sleeping friend. “I like him a lot, and… I always want to hug him, somehow? And I want to tell him that he’s a good person, and that he deserves...”

He trailed off.

“Hm. Plenty of good things I guess,” Ryoji said, blushing.

“Were you going to say that he deserves the stars?” Lisa asked with a grin.

“Yeah, but I figured it’d be a little cheesy,” Ryoji replied, blushing even more.

“It seems like you two get along really well,” Aphrodite said. “Would you say that you share a special connection?”

“I think I would?” Ryoji replied, sounding unsure. “There’s these moments where he adjusts his beanie, and I know it means something is bothering him, so I ask what’s wrong, and he says ‘it’s fine’ because I know he likes to play it tough, so I ask another question, a bit more subtle, to get to know what’s wrong, and then he says he’s thinking about the outside world and the things he left behind, and I know it makes him impossibly sad, and I feel like I can never help him enough, but then we hug and he says ‘thank you, you’re a good bro’, and...”

Ryoji was completely red and stuttering, but Lisa didn’t interrupt him.

“And I love when he calls me that,” Ryoji finished, smiling and rubbing his watery eyes. “I love it so much, and I want to hear it again and again, just because it makes me feel good… is that weird?”

“No, it’s not,” Lisa said with a smile. “It’s perfectly okay Ryo.”

“I don’t know if it’s love,” Ryoji said, his voice cracking a little. “Sometimes I think it may be, but… no one’s ever loved me before, so maybe I’m just getting worked up about something as simple as friendship. It’s not impossible, right?”

Lisa got up from her stool, and went to hug him.

“Whatever it is, you’ll figure it out,” she said with a smile. “There’s no rush. When you feel ready, you can have a conversation with him, and define your relationship. But in the meantime just enjoy his presence. I think everything will fall in place naturally.”

“Okay,” Ryoji said, sniffling. “Sorry about the rambling.”

“Shh, it’s fine,” Lisa said. “We’re here for you, ‘kay?”

Ryoji nodded.

Bob woke up several hours later, and no one mentioned the conversation they just had concerning him. They spent the afternoon reading Jordana’s books and playing charades. When Lucien came back with another food tray at dinner time, he asked if they wanted to get out.

“No, I don’t think we will,” Lisa said childishly. “We’re tired of your face.”

“I see,” Lucien replied, sounding a little hurt. “The thing is, the others insisted I bring you all back for dinner. They said it does not feel the same when you three are not around.”

He took a moment to adjust his clothes, nervously.

“I think they resent me a little.”

“No kiddin’,” Bob said darkly. “You got a lotta apologizin’ to do.”

“The others said that?” Aphrodite asked, arching an eyebrow. “That’s sweet.”

“It they want to see us so bad, I say why not,” Lisa added with a shrug. “We may grace them with our presence, just for a little while.”

“Yes please,” Lucien said, opening the door wide (he sounded relieved).

They went to the restaurant together, and had a talk. It was agreed that Lucien had been abusing his powers, and that he needed to stop right away if he wanted to avoid trouble. He apologized, and asked the others how he could improve the schedule. After he had gathered enough suggestions, everyone went to bed, feeling a little less tense. Jordana went to sleep in jail, because all of the other bedrooms were taken.

The next day went on without trouble. Lucien allowed everyone to sleep in, and the activities only began in the early afternoon. Manual team (Jordana being the newest member) worked on the construction of the shack, while the intellectual team was tasked to read more of the books from she offices, in an attempt to understand more about the facility. Aphrodite learned about a new virus called _“Furantur”_ , which had apparently worried the GTU’s researchers quite a lot, though they were always very vague when describing the effect it was supposed to have.

“Whatever this virus is, it seems to be very important,” she told the others. “It’s been mentioned in at least five different books among the few I managed to read. I think we might need to figure out what it is if we want to unravel the secret of this facility.”

“Easier said than done,” Gwenn complained.

“Could it be related to the war?” Ryoji pondered. “Maybe that’s what made the air toxic in the first place.”

They kept tossing theories here and there, and agreed to inspect the issue more thoroughly in the following days.

Before dinner, Aphrodite held her first sewing lesson, and found out that Ryoji was surprisingly good at it, unlike Bob who kept losing the needle. Jordana made dinner for everyone – Gwenn insisted that Lucien remained with her to make sure she didn’t poison the food, even though all of the poison had been thrown into the sewers. After that, everyone left to do their own thing.

But the next day took a very bad start. When Lisa entered the restaurant, Bob and Lucien were yelling at each other again (about what, she had no clue). Lucien threatened to put Bob in jail once more, but Bob replied that he wouldn’t. When Rebecca and Ferdinand attempted to force him out, he kicked and punched, giving poor Ferdinand a black eye. Typhaine got angry at him for disrupting the peace again, Aphrodite tried to understand what was going on, Magalie complained that the noise was giving her a headache: soon everyone was speaking at the same time, the room fell in utter chaos. Things could have degenerated into a massive fight if Lucien hadn’t given up and suddenly left the room, leaving his classmates to argue without him. Without someone to yell at, Bob quickly calmed down, and eventually silence fell once more. It lasted on and on, until Gwenn broke it again.

“Uh… okay, so what do we do now? Should we go after Lucien?”

“Typhaine already did,” Rebecca replied.

“I guess today’s plans have been canceled,” Magalie said. “It’s cool, I needed to work on my thesis anyway.”

“I wanted to read more about the Furantur virus,” Aphrodite commented. “I guess I’ll just do that, and report to him tomorrow.”

“I’m gonna have a nap,” Bob said drily, before leaving.

“Wait for me!” Ryoji screamed. “I want to nap with you!”

“I shall take care of the garden,” Florian said awkwardly.

Soon enough, Lisa found herself alone with Rebecca, Ferdinand, Gwenn and Jordana. None of them seemed to know where to go from there. Jordana was humming a Disney song to herself (from _Mulan_ , unless Lisa was mistaken). Gwenn was staring at the ceiling, Ferdinand was keeping his hand on his belt (presumably where his sword used to be), Rebecca was tapping the floor with her foot.

_Okay so… I guess we should do something together, to cool off maybe. What could be a good idea?_

“Guys,” Lisa shouted, suddenly struck with inspiration. “How about we play hide and seek?”

“Hide and seek?” Jordana echoed in surprise. “We’re not children.”

“Oh hey, that sounds like a good idea!” Rebecca said enthusiastically.

“Sure, why not,” Gwenn said with a shrug. “I haven’t played hide and seek in ages, but it’s not like our situation can get any crazier.”

“My eyesight will render this game fairly difficult,” Ferdinand began, “but I will not back down before a challenge! Count me in!”

“Hell yeah, that’s the spirit!” Lisa shouted, high-fiving him.

“Oh well, if everyone wishes to play, I guess I can be a child for a few hours,” Jordana commented.

It was agreed that Lisa would give everyone a full minute to hide anywhere within the facility before she began to look for them. She found Gwenn first, hiding behind a curtain in the water room, then Jordana lying down behind a pile of crates in the elevator room. As for Rebecca, she had been smart enough to hide within one of the cars in the parking lot – finding her took Lisa a while.

“But where did Ferdinand go?” She wondered out loud.

She had searched everywhere: north wing, south wing, east wing, the second floor, the restaurant, and even bothered Lucien and Typhaine in apartment suit n°1, Ferdinand was nowhere.

“Maybe he went into the sewers?” Gwenn suggested.

Tired of running around after Lisa, Gwenn and Jordana had decided to wait for her in the kitchen. Gwenn was making smoothies, unsurprisingly, and Jordana was doing a whole lot of nothing.

“I sure hope he didn’t go into the sewers,” Lisa said. “It’d be very dangerous for him to go alone!”

“Let’s go check it out,” Rebecca replied. “Just in case, y’know?”

Both of them very very dedicated women, and could run around for hours without tiring themselves. But no matter how far they went, Ferdinand was nowhere to be seen.

“Damn, he’s one of the tallest among us and we can’t even find him?” Lisa complained. “Where did he even go?”

“It’s like he’s managed to escape the facility,” Rebecca said with a chuckle. “Who knew that playing hide and seek was the solution to all of our problems?”

“Ha, keep dreaming.”

Lisa and Rebecca left the sewers, went to the water room to have a shower, and put on some clean clothes. They went back to the restaurant, where Gwenn and Jordana were drinking smoothies and discussing quantum physics (ah, so Gwenn was no longer afraid of her?), but Ferdinand had still not returned.

“Damn,” Lisa said. “He’s good at this.”

“You’ve checked the balcony?” Gwenn asked. “The relaxation cells? The torture rooms? The shack?”

“Yes to all of these,” Lisa replied, biting her thumb. “Twice.”

“What a strange situation,” Jordana commented. “Who could possibly solve this mystery?”

“I’m sure the solution is really simple!” Rebecca answered confidently. “We must have overlooked something.”

Frustrated, Lisa took out her monopad.

[Lisa] damnit ferd where are you

[Lisa] i swear to god i looked everywhere

[Lisa] please just tell me where you are

[Rebecca] If you’re secretly a ghost, now’s the time to confess!

[Magalie] Guys, have you forgotten?

[Magalie] He can’t read.

[Lisa] even if he sticks his face against the screen???

[Magalie] Even then, yes.

[Rebecca] Okay but Mag, you can help us find him, right? You’re his friend!

[Rebecca] You should know how his mind works

[Magalie] What are you all even doing?

[Jordana] Being children.

[Gwenn] she means hide and seek. we’re playing hide and seek

[Ryoji] Oh golly, can I play too?

[Lisa] sure, as soon as we find where ferd bloody vanished to

[Jordana] It’s quite the mystery I assure you.

[Ryoji] But Lisa is the queen of mysteries!

[Lisa] apparently not, if i cant find a tol boi like ferd in this stupid place

[Aphrodite] Have you checked the trial room?

[Lisa] whut

[Lisa] we can like, go there???

[Aphrodite] Of course. I find the place pretty relaxing, myself.

[Rebecca] Relaxing? But it’s a trial room o_o

[Aphrodite] I like places with a tall ceiling.

[Lisa] it’s definitely a place i havent checked so

[Lisa] thanks phro

[Aphrodite] You’re welcome.

Lisa pocketed her monopad and ran toward the elevator room, followed closely by Rebecca. Surprisingly enough, the elevator doors _did_ open when they pressed the button. The only way was down, however – all the other functions had been disabled.

They found Ferdinand sleeping at the center of the circle, on the large rug representing a target. He was snoring softly.

“He’s quite cute like this, I’ll admit,” Rebecca said.

“Makes me wonder if that rug is soft,” Lisa pondered.

“Only one way to find out.”

And so they lied down on the rug next to Ferdinand, and fell asleep for a quick nap. He was very surprised to find them when he woke up.

“For how long have you been…?”

“It’s hard to tell,” Lisa replied with a yawn. “You’re damn good at hide and seek though, kudos dude.”

“Oh, uh… thank you,” Ferdinand replied, stroking his moustache proudly.

They exited the room together and returned to the restaurant. But as they were crossing the parking lot, they noticed Ryoji and Gwenn, crouching near the fence.

“What’s going on, you two?” Lisa asked curiously, walking toward them.

“Look,” Ryoji said with barely contained excitement. “There’s a cat over here!”

Indeed, a tiny white cat was wandering the ruins of a large street, some thirty meters away from the fence. It was dirty and looked a little ill. Other than that, it was fairly cute.

“We’ve been trying to get it to come to us,” Gwenn explained. “But I think it’s afraid.”

“Leave it to me, I’m great with cats,” Lisa said proudly, kneeling in front of the fence.

“I’ll go grab a can of tuna!” Rebecca said as she ran toward the kitchen.

It was a magical moment. From an outside perspective, it may have looked like a silly young woman making weird noises to attract a cat, but it was more than that. These twelve young adults hadn’t seen anyone from the outside in _weeks_. The feeling of being cut out from the rest of the world was indescribable. In this moment, Lisa suddenly realized how much she was missing the outside world, the strangers in the streets, the shopkeepers, the children and the elderly, their voices, the noises they made, the things they created. This cat wasn’t any of them, but he was an outsider just like them. He was something new, another life form, a being. And she realized that she didn’t want him to go away. She was _desperate_ for the cat to come closer, to crawl between the iron bars and rest on her lap.

Rebecca soon came with a large amount of tuna cans, which she and Florian began to open frantically, hoping the smell would attract the animal. Everyone was gathering behind Lisa, silently praying for her success. The cat was apparently curious: he walked toward Lisa, slowly. Twenty meters, fifteen, twelve, he was getting closer. He seemed to hesitate before going any further.

“Guys, back off,” Lisa whispered. “You’re scaring him.”

And they all did what she asked, suddenly getting on their feet and retreating. It was just Lisa and the cat now, and an absurd amount of tuna cans. The cat meowed curiously.

“Yes, it’s for you,” Lisa whispered. “Please, come here.”

And the cat jumped on her lap.

“Oh my god,” Lisa said. “We have a new cat, guys.”

She was almost tearing up from the sheer joy. She was repeating the sentence in her mind, over and over.

_We have a new pet, we have a new pet, we have a new pet._

The cat began to purr.


	28. Cold Morning, Hope, and Body Discovery Announcement

Aphrodite was alone in the class trial room, brushing some of the dust from one of the desks. It was the middle of the night, but she wasn’t feeling sleepy. She had brought some of Bertrand’s paints and brushes, planning to redecorate the room. It was a gloomy place, and would always be a gloomy place – still, if she could add to it even a little touch of joy, that would be enough for her. Maybe it would give Lisa some courage, next time she would have to unfold a complex case and fight a stubborn culprit, who knew.

_Wait, why do I assume Lisa is going to have to do all the work again? And why do I assume another murder is going to occur? None of these things are certain._

She picked one of the largest brushes, and dipped it in the yellow paint bucket. She didn’t know what kind of art she was going for. Abstract seemed like the best choice, considering her skills.

“Will another murder occur?” She muttered to herself. “We used to be strangers to one another, but now... we’re pretty good friends, aren’t we? Sure, there are some tensions among the group, but does that mean we should expect someone to kill? Would Bob kill Lucien to get rid of an annoying leader? Would Gween murder Jordana out of fear?”

She kept painting and she thought about these questions, adding some green and red shades to her piece.

“The truth is, I don’t know anything. I can’t predict anything, either. All I can do is react.”

Still, today had been a good day, had it not? With the arrival of the cat. The others had been discussing what to name it. Gwenn had asserted that the cat was a male – Lucien had suggested to name him Albus, because it meant “white” in latin, in reference to the animal’s fur. Magalie had thrown out names of important (and unimportant) historical figures, Ferdinand had suggested various synonyms for “brave”, Typhaine had suggested cute names like Strawberry, Apple, Kiwi (she seemed to love fruits a lot). Lisa had eventually won the votes by suggesting to call him “Hope”. At the moment, Hope was sleeping in the restaurant’s kitchen, well fed (maybe a bit too well) and serene. Everyone else was probably asleep – only Aphrodite was awake, applying more colors to the stone wall.

 _It looks a little like a galaxy,_ she thought as she took a step back to inspect her work. _I should add little strokes of white to represent_ _the_ _stars._

It was nearly 3am when she was finally done. She briefly considered going back to her room, but she had heard that Ferdinand had taken a nap on the rug earlier. Somehow, that seemed like a better option than boarding the elevator and returning to her room (which she shared with Gwenn). With nothing to serve as a pillow or a blanket, Aphrodite lied down at the center of the target, and slowly fell asleep. She dreamed that Bob was tying her to a chair and applying paint to her face, as a form of camouflage, because apparently “Lucien’s dogs were roaming”. She woke up a few hours later with an aching back. Slowly getting up to her feet, she wondered what time it was. Considering the lack of windows, she had no way of knowing. Boarding the elevator, she went to the restaurant right away. The wet sand under her feet hinted that it had rained the previous night.

She only found Ferdinand and Typhaine in the restaurant. Both looked a little dead.

“How are you two doing?”

“Oh, we’re good,” Typhaine said, yawning. “We were rehearsing for the meeting.”

“Meeting?”

“To further discuss the best course of action to take from here,” Lucien explained. “I am getting tired of Robert’s continual assaults, you see, and since I ignore how to please him, I expressed the wish to hear everyone’s opinion on the subject.”

They waited for a while in silence. Eventually Aphrodite went to the kitchen, poured herself a bowl of cereals, and came back. Around 6am, Ferdinand and Magalie joined the assembly, and Gwenn arrived half an hour later. Florian was next, grumpy as ever.

“Who’s making breakfast?” He asked bluntly. “I’m starving.”

“No one,” Aphrodite replied. “It’s a free-for-all kind of morning I think.”

“Oh, I see.”

And he disappeared into the kitchen. Lucien sighed.

“I hope they do not make us wait for too long. We _did_ agree to have this meeting at 7am, did we not?”

“Did we?” Aphrodite asked.

“Everyone agreed to it,” Typhaine said politely. “You must have forgotten.”

Rebecca arrived fifteen minutes later, apologizing for being late.

“Wait, I thought I’d be the last one to arrive, but...”

“But Ryoji, Robert, Lisa and Jordana are still missing, indeed,” Lucien said, crossing his arms. “What do you all think? Should we start the meeting without them?”

“Hm, that’s weird,” Magalie commented. “I’m not surprised about Bob being absent, but Ryoji has never been late before, has he?”

“You think something might have happened to him?” Ferdinand asked, sounding tense.

“It’s not impossible.”

Magalie sounded worried. Her brow was furrowed, and she was staring at the table with incredible intensity.

“You reckon we should check…?”

“Yes,” Aphrodite and Ferdinand said at the same time.

They got up from their seat, and left the restaurant together.

“Where should we venture first, in your opinion?” Ferdinand asked once they reached the door to the facility.

“Room 104,” Aphrodite decided. “Three of our missing classmates should be in there after all. We’ll check the science lab later.”

Ferdinand nodded, and began to run. Aphrodite forced him to slow down by tugging on his sleeve.

“Careful. You could get hurt.”

He was sweating a little, she noticed. He nodded once more.

“You are right, of course. There must be a perfectly logical explanation for our friends’ absence. I am sure it is not...”

“Murder?” Aphrodite asked. “We’ll know soon enough.”

“Goodness me,” Ferdinand replied, sniffling. “I dearly hope everything is all right. I could not stand to learn about the death of another of my classmates.”

Aphrodite’s teeth were tightly clenched. She opened the door to room 104 with no hesitation.

“Fuck,” she said.

“No!” Ferdinand yelled. “It has happened again!”

The floor was covered in blood, and the entrance to the sewers was wide open. There was a bloody rock next to Ryoji’s bed, about the size of a melon. And in the bed...

“Is he dead?” Ferdinand shouted in disbelief. “Have we lost our dear friend Ryoji?”

“No, Ryoji didn’t die,” Aphrodite cut in, sharply. “Because we would have heard the body discovery announcement if he were.”

Still, despite not being dead, Ryoji was in a bad shape. His face was covered in dry blood, and he was unconscious. He seemed to be breathing with difficulty.

_Again? Why do the culprits keep targeting him like this?_

“Monoblade,” Aphrodite snapped.

He dropped from the ceiling.

“I know, I know,” Monoblade said. “The helicopter is ready to bring him to the hospital. Take a picture of him before you leave though, it could be useful.”

Aphrodite obeyed, feeling her heartbeat accelerating.

 _It’s like last time: first we find a wounded person, next comes the dead body. The blood on the floor probably doesn’t belong to Ryoji,_ _so who does it belong to?_

Her picture taken, Aphrodite let Ferdinand wheel the bed out of the room and into the parking lot, where the helicopter would be taking care of Ryoji.

_Ryoji isn’t dead, so it means the victim is either Jordana, Lisa or Bob. Where could they be?_

[Aphrodite] Jordana, Lisa, Bob, if you’re alive please respond.

She didn’t know if this was going to work, but it was worth a try. Soon enough, Lucien, Typhaine, Rebecca, Gwenn and Magalie had joined her into the room.

“What happened here?” Gwenn asked, sounding horrified. “Who died?”

“I don’t know yet,” Aphrodite said. “I assume the body is somewhere in the sewers. Whatever the case, we must investigate.”

“Then we should split up again,” Lucien said firmly. “We need to search the entire campus, until we have found each of our missing classmates.”

“And we might as well gather evidence for the class trial while we’re at it,” Magalie added bitterly. “It’s been a while...”

“I’ll head down into the sewers,” Aphrodite announced. “Someone wishes to come with me?”

“Yeah, I’ll do it,” Gwenn replied, sounding determined.

They both went down the ladder, and turned their lights on.

“Where should we go first?” Gwenn asked. “North or south?”

“North,” Aphrodite replied immediately. “We have to follow the current.”

“Oh, that’s smart.”

They both walked very slowly, careful to inspect every inch of the tunnel. Aphrodite didn’t know what to expect, so she looked for anything that would seem suspicious. However, for a while she didn’t see anything weird.

“There!” Gwenn shouted. “There’s something stuck in this bush.”

“Let me see,” Aphrodite replied, crouching near the bush in question.

She hesitated to put her hand through it, but felt like she had no choice in the matter. The plant was cold and damp, the thing that was stuck in it was partially coated in mud.

“That’s...” Aphrodite began when she brought it closer to her face.

“A body has been discovered,” rang Monoblade’s voice through the speakers.

His tone was oddly flat this time, lacking the excitement that he would usually produce in these kinds of situations. Aphrodite already knew what this meant, but she pushed the thought away.

“Is this, a hand?” Gwenn asked, sounding disgusted.

“It is,” Aphrodite replied. “I fear this is all we’re going to find today.”

“Lucky bastards,” Monoblade said in a neutral tone after appearing behind them. “You found it, the investigation can begin now.”

“What?” Gwenn shouted. “But we only have one hand! How are we supposed to figure out the culprit?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t care. Hurry up or die.”

_He’s undoubtedly angry. That can only mean…_

“It’s Lisa’s body, isn’t it?” Aphrodite asked calmly.

“No...” Gwenn moaned, eyes wide in fear and shock.

“I can’t say,” Monoblade replied.

“But you can’t hide it either,” Aphrodite countered. “Your daughter has just died, and it’s all your fault. Don’t you realize it’s time to put an end to this insane game, by now?”

She was surprised by her own brutality – she had practically yelled at him. She hadn’t gotten so angry in years.

“I already told you that it was impossible,” Monoblade replied with barely contained rage. “Besides, you want me to put an end to this killing game _now?_ Before I even get a chance to execute the bastard who murdered my daughter? Think again.”

“I see,” Aphrodite replied. “Of course you’d say that.”

“That’s why you gotta hurry up and investigate,” Monoblade said threateningly. “If you fail to find the right culprit, I’ll make you pay. It’ll be long and painful.”

“Yeah, I know. Leave it to me.”

Aphrodite had no idea why she was acting so confident. Gwenn was crying next to her, but she was terrible at comforting people, so she ignored them and turned her monopad on.

[Magalie] We found Bob, he’s fine, he was sleeping in one of the cars for some reason.

[Magalie] We still don’t know where Lisa and Jordana are, though.

[Aphrodite] I just got confirmation from Monoblade that Lisa is the victim.

[Magalie] Holy shit

[Magalie] we’re fuckin screwed

Aphrodite turned her monopad off, and patted Gwenn on the back.

“Come on, we don’t have much time. Let’s begin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lisa's death portrait: https://imgur.com/a/SobZ001


	29. Little Mysteries

Aphrodite and Gwenn agreed to leave the sewers right away. Aphrodite believed that their chances of finding more of the body parts were low, and with the limited time they had, it’d be wiser to search the facility for clues. Naturally, their first stop was room 104. Ferdinand was standing in the middle of the room, glaring at them.

“Ferd?” Gwenn asked curiously. “What are you doing?”

Ferdinand was stroking his moustache pensively.

“My eyesight renders me useless when it comes to investigations – but I figured I could always guard the crime scene. In case the culprit wished to tamper with evidence.”

“Hm… but are we sure this is even the real crime scene?” Gwenn asked. “Because, in the two previous cases, the body was always moved, so...”

“I guess we’ll have to figure it out,” Aphrodite said.

She asked Gwenn and Ferdinand to move, then took several pictures. The blood on the floor had been arranged in an odd manner. There was a considerable amount of dry bloodstains, but at the center of it all there was a cross-shape, seemingly drawn out of blood by the culprit. It was a little clumsy, but there could be no doubt: the blood represented a christian cross.

“What the hell,” Gwenn said, wincing. “Why would they do that?”

“I don’t know yet,” Aphrodite replied.

She lifted the bloody stone which had been lying near Ryoji’s bed. It was quite heavy.

_I assume this was used to stun him. It probably came from the parking lot._

When she turned it around, she was surprised to find a smiley face drawn on the other side of the rock.

“What is this?” She muttered to herself.

“That would be Ryoji’s pet rock, I assume,” Gwenn replied.

“His what now?”

“Oh uh… I think it’s some kind of joke between him and Bob. They picked that thing up a few days ago. It used to rest on their desk.”

“I see.”

_So not from the outside. Good to know._

Gwenn was picking up a bloody object from the floor. It was a large saw, and it was covered in blood.

“I think I got the murder weapon. But… wait, this is weird. I thought we had tossed all the tools in the sewers?”

“Ah, you would be mistaken!” Ferdinand explained. “We _did_ get rid of the tools from the torture rooms, but this one came from the workshop. We needed to keep it for the carpentry project, you will recall.”

“That makes sense,” Gwenn replied with a frown. “Stupid carpentry project.”

On the remaining bed, the culprit had left Lisa’s monopad. When Aphrodite turned it on, she browsed through the recent messages. Lisa had apparently agreed to meet with Typhaine on the evening before the murder. At midnight, she received a text from Bob, where he asked if she could meet him in the robot room urgently.

_Interesting. I guess I’ll have to question these two._

Aphrodite kept looking around, but didn’t find anything else that looked important.

_The question is, why was Ryoji alone_ _in there_ _? I know where I slept last night, but that doesn’t explain Bob’s absence._

“Say, uh… did you keep the hand?” Gwenn asked, sounding unseasy.

Aphrodite took it out of her pocket. Indeed, she had kept Lisa’s hand, without even thinking. Probably one of the weirdest things she had done in a while.

“Shouldn’t we, uh… investigate that?” Gwenn questioned, sounding very uneasy.

“I’ll do it, you can look away if it makes you uncomfortable,” Aphrodite replied.

She put the hand on the table, and took a picture of it. It was covered in mud, so it was not like there was much she could tell from that observation, apart from the fact that all five fingers were present and accounted for.

“I think we might need to clean it.”

“Let’s go to the water room then,” Gwenn suggested.

They waved at Ferdinand as they left, and ran to the water room. They were surprised to find Rebecca swimming in the basin.

“What is she doing?” Gwenn asked angrily. “This is no moment to be taking a dip!”

“She didn’t even bother to take her clothes off,” Aphrodite noticed. “I wonder what she’s doing.”

Eventually Rebecca came out of the water, shaking her head and splashing water all around herself. She was holding something in her hand.

“Ah good, you’re here! I think I made an important discovery.”

She opened her hand, and showed it to Aphrodite. For a while, the girl didn’t understand what she was supposed to see – then she noticed the nails at the center of Rebecca’s palm.

“Oh,” she said. “That _does_ seem important. You found them at the bottom of the basin?”

“Yeah, I did. Originally I noticed some scratch marks at the edge of the basin, that’s what alerted me. So I took a dive, but this is all I found in there.”

“Hold on,” Gwenn said, raising both arms in the air dramatically. “You mean to tell me you managed to find some tiny nails at the bottom of this huge basin? What the hell?”

“Hey, I’m the Ultimate Swimmer for a reason,” Rebecca pouted. “I can swim with my eyes open, and hold my breath for a very, very long time.”

“That sure is handy, huh,” Gwenn commented. “Good job Rebecca.”

Aphrodite took a picture of the nails, which she had placed on the floor. She then went to inspect the scratch marks. They were on the floor and inner walls of the basin, and didn’t look very deep. Gwenn refused to touch the hand, and instead went to look around the room. Aphrodite cleaned the hand herself.

“Just as I thought.”

“Did you find something?” Rebecca asked, drying her hair.

“This hand is missing some of its nails, and two of the fingertips are severely damaged. That’s definitely a correlation.”

“Oh hell yeah, I was useful!” Rebecca shouted, pumping her fists. “Well, I’m off. I’m going to explore all the places where water is stored! Every sink, every puddle, I’ll leave none of them unchecked!”

“Good luck with that.”

Aphrodite took more pictures and got up. Gwenn was coming back from the shower rooms, holding a mop.

“I found this. It kinda smells of soap. Not sure if this is relevant.”

“Depends on last time the water room was cleaned. We’ll have to ask Lucien.”

There wasn’t anything else of notice in the water room, so they left. Gwenn looked uncertain.

“Where should we go next, in your opinion? Are there any logical places to investigate from now on?”

“On Lisa’s monopad, a text from Bob said to meet him at the robot room at midnight. I figure there might be something there.”

They found Magalie alone in the elevator room.

“Did you find anything?” Aphrodite asked.

“Yes,” she replied. “Some of the crates are missing. I don’t know where they went though. Apart from that, this room seems perfectly normal to me.”

Aphrodite nodded. Wishing Magalie good luck, they left the elevator room. Lucien and Typhaine were taking care of the science labs and torture rooms. They informed them that Jordana still hadn’t been found.

“There’s not a thousand places she could be,” Aphrodite said rationally.

“Alive or dead,” Gwenn completed gloomily.

“Typhaine, I had a question for you, by the way,” Aphrodite continued, ignoring the interruption. “I checked Lisa’s monopad. Did you two meet yesterday?”

“We did,” Typhaine admitted uneasily. “We spent a little while chatting in the elevator room. She wanted to know if I was doing all right. After a while I left and went back to my room. I don’t know what she did after that.”

“Okay, I see.”

Aphrodite took a few notes, and went to speak with Lucien.

“Lucien? When’s the last time the water room was cleaned?”

“Two days ago I believe. Why?”

“Oh, uh, you’ll see.”

She thanked both of them, and followed Gwenn into the staircase. Gwenn went to the robot room right away, while Aphrodite stayed behind to check for anything suspicious on the stairs themselves. But then she heard a scream and a loud noise, coming from above.

“Gwenn? You okay?”

Rushing up the staircase, she found herself at the entrance of the robot room. It was completely dark, so she turned on the light from her monopad. Gwenn was lying on the floor, under a pile of miscellaneous objects. They looked hurt.

“Are you okay?” Aphrodite asked.

“No!” Gwenn complained. “What the heck? What’s going on?”

“Hold on, I’ll turn the light on.”

Aphrodite jumped over Gwenn’s body, and flicked the light switch. This way she could see the room a little better. Gwenn was buried underneath a pile of crates and robot parts. She began to remove them one my one, helping her friend up.

“Ouch,” Gwenn complained.

“What happened?”

“I think I tripped, uh… there was something on the floor.”

Aphrodite went to investigate. A large dolly had been placed next to the door: a thick thread had been tied around one of its wheels. The other end of the thread was tied to one of the pipes in the wall.

“Looks like someone played a prank on you,” Aphrodite commented.

Gwenn screamed again. Aphrodite frowned.

“What is it this time?”

She turned around, and found that Gwenn was staring at the south wall. More specifically, at one of the relaxation cells.

“Oh,” Aphrodite said. “That explains where Jordana went.”

The singer was resting within the cell, a look of utter serenity on her face. A strange green light was illuminating her face. A bunch of numbers were flickering on a screen embedded into the wall above her. Gwenn put a hand on her shoulder, shook her a bit, but she didn’t wake up.

“It’s pointless,” Aphrodite said. “We made a lot of noise when we came in, and that wasn’t enough to wake her. She must be in some sort of artificial sleep.”

“Oh, that’d make sense. But then, how do we wake her up?”

Monoblade came to the rescue.

“Did I never explain how these things work? You just have to press a button.”

He showed them how to make the proper manipulations on the little screen. The green light turned blue.

“It’ll take a while for her to wake up, and she might be a little disoriented when she does. You should give her some space.”

“So how does it work, exactly?” Gwenn pondered. “You press a button, lie down on the couch thingy, and then boom you fall asleep? How do you wake up on your own?”

“You can’t really wake up on your own,” Monoblade replied. “And you don’t need to press a button, the process is automatic. You just need to lie down, and the cell will activate on its own.”

“That’s uh… very weird. And dangerous. It really feels like you should have explained that sooner.”

“Woops,” Monoblade replied. “Oh well, you know how it works now. Toodles.”

He shot through the ceiling and disappeared. Jordana was moving a little.

“Ah, sleeping beauty is waking up,” Gwenn commented with a smirk. “Just barely on time.”

“Whassup?” Jordana asked, blinking.

“We’re investigating,” Aphrodite explained.

“Oh, so Lisa is dead?” Jordana asked with a yawn. “Shit, that’s probably bad, hold on-”

She tried to move around, but her arms and legs were weak, and all she managed to do was to flop on the floor.

“How did you figure it out?” Gwenn asked, in shock. “How did you know it was Lisa?”

“I have crazy good intuition,” Jordana mumbled. “Neveryouworryaboutit.”

She painfully got up, and clumsily left the room, mumbling something about having to search Typhaine’s room. Gwenn chuckled.

“That’s not a sight you see every day. We should put her in that thing more often, just to see her crawl. I think she was even drooling a bit there.”

“We shouldn’t, because that’d be cruel,” Aphrodite replied neutrally.

“Oh come on, you know I was joking!”

“Were you now?”

Aphrodite went back to her investigation. The crates which had fallen on the floor contained clothes, for the most part. Those were probably the missing crates from the elevator room: at least one mystery was solved. She turned around: Gwenn had picked one of the robot parts from the floor.

“Sheesh, that thing is heavy.”

“Not surprising, considering it’s made of steel. But didn’t it use to be across the room?”

“I don’t remember.”

Gwenn shrugged and put it down. Aphrodite kept searching, and eventually realized that the sprinklers had disappeared. But Gwenn explained that it was simply because Florian had borrowed them for the garden. He had asked Monoblade to provide a tube, so he could link them to the kitchen sink.

“So we have fully-functioning sprinklers, don’t we? That’s nice.”

There was nothing else to investigate in the room, so they agreed to leave.

“Oh wait, Jordana forgot her monopad,” Gwenn said. “We’d better give it back to her when we have the occasion.”

Aphrodite suggested they investigated the saw next – that meant going to the construction site in the parking lot, and the workshop next. In the north wing’s hallway, they met Bob. He looked absolutely terrible: his clothes were wet and creased, his hair was messy, there were bags under his eyes – and to top it all off, he had a nasty bruise on his cheek. He gave Aphrodite and Gwenn a sidelong glance, which _screamed_ “Don’t fuck with me”.

Aphrodite ignored the silent warning.

“Hey Bob. Where were you last night?”

She didn’t recall him ever looking so angry before, like a pool of hot lava barely contained under a layer of ice.

“I didn’ do it,” he said through gritted teeth. “Back off.”

“Okay,” Aphrodite replied calmly.

She let him leave and entered the parking lot.

_It’s fine. I’ll probably have to sort things out with him at some point during the trial, but that can wait._

“What’s gotten into him?” Gwenn asked nervously. “He’s never looked at me like this before.”

“As much as it pains me to say it, we don’t have the time to worry about him right now. Let’s keep going.”

In the parking lot, they were surprised to find Ryoji speaking with Magalie. He had a white bandage wrapped around his head, which oddly enough, made him look like a sportsperson. He was once again wearing the strange blue and white prison uniform. Aphrodite walked toward him.

“You’re back already?”

“Yeah,” Ryoji said with a weak smile. “They said my injury wasn’t too bad this time. They still took the time to amputate me of one of my toes though,” he added, wailing.

He then put his large hands on Aphrodite’s shoulders, which was somewhat intimidating because of his size. He looked a little distressed.

“Are we sure Lisa is truly the victim?” He asked, his voice shaky. “Have you actually found her body?”

“I’ve met everyone else,” Aphrodite replied. “And no one was missing their right hand. Lisa is dead, Ryoji.”

He began to sob. Magalie tried to comfort him, but he kept repeating that he was fine, that he needed to investigate before the time limit ran out. Aphrodite felt her chest tighten, but left him anyway to inspect the shack.

“Where do you figure the saw came from?” She asked, trying to regain her cool.

“Probably from this toolbox,” Gwenn reaplied, gesturing to a black case on the ground.

The toolbox was rather large, nearly as big as a suitcase. It contained nails, hammers, screwdrivers, wrenches, nails, and other tools. It made perfect sense for the saw to come from there.

“Funny,” Gwenn commented. “This case was locked, I think.”

“How can you tell?”

“Because the lock is right here, on the ground. It needs a four digits-code apparently. It doesn’t look like it was ever broken.”

“We’ll have to ask someone from the manual team about that. Remind me, who’s part of manual team?”

“Jordana, Lucien, Ferdinand, Rebecca, Bob. And… well, Lisa was part of it too.”

“Okay, I’ll try to remember that.”

There was nothing else of notice in the shack, in the garden or in the parking lot. They headed inside the restaurant, intending to search the workshop – but before they could get there, Gwenn noticed something.

“Hey, was that table always here?”

“Which one? Oh, uh… it could have been moved, true.”

Aphrodite grabbed a lock of her white hair, and began to fiddle with it. Was this worth investigating? It probably was, she figured. Crouching, she went under the table.

“The table must have moved, there are scratches on the floorboards.”

“Oh yeah, I see them! So that table must have been pushed at some point yesterday.”

“It could very much mean nothing, though. Honestly I don’t think- huh?”

“You found something else?”

“Yeah, little debris of wood. Wonder how they ended up here? Some of them got stuck between the floorboards.”

“Are they big?”

“No, rather small. Something might have broken.”

“Hm. Probably not the discovery of the century,” Gwenn said, crossing their arms and pouting. “No blood at all?”

“None.”

“Damnit.”

“I’ll take a picture just in case.”

That done, Gwenn and Aphrodite could finally climb up the stairs. They ignored apartment suite n°2 and turned to n°1. Before they could open the door, a strange detail immediately became apparent.

“Hey, that door’s busted!” Gwenn exclaimed. “There’s not even a handle anymore.”

“It looks like someone tried to break in. Let’s see what’s inside.”

Rebecca was busy inspecting the sink in the workshop.

“This one wasn’t used… okay, that’s the last one I had to check. Good, good,” she muttered to herself.

“Hello again Rebecca,” Aphrodite said. “We needed to talk with someone from manual team, you mind helping us with something?”

“Sure, what is it?”

“It’s about the lock protecting the toolbox in the shack. Do you know the code?”

“It’s 7333. Lucien is the one who chose it, but every member from manual team knew about it.”

“Including Jordana?”

“Including her.”

“And no one else knew?”

“We were forbidden to share it with anyone,” Rebecca explained. “So I think no one else knew, unless someone spilled the beans.”

“Good, thank you Rebecca.”

The workshop didn’t offer much in terms of clues – it was pretty much the same as it had been on the first day. But Aphrodite noticed that the shelf containing the wooden statuettes looked a little lighter. They had been arranged to disguise that fact, but one of them was definitely missing. Aphrodite made a mental note about it when the announcement rang once more.

“It’s over now, come to the elevator room or you’ll be executed. The class trial will begin shortly.”

Aphrodite sighed.

_We truly can’t catch a break, can we? What time is it? Why can’t we have breakfast before the trial? Would it be so hard to give us fifteen minutes?_

She walked out of the workshop, trying to remember all that she had found. There had been an absurd amount of clues for this case, but they hardly seemed connected. Outside, the sun was blazing, as if mocking her. The sand was still a little damp from the rain.

She noticed that Gwenn had stopped moving.

“What is it? You noticed something?”

They were frowning very intensely.

“Uh, I feel like there’s something odd about the fence, but… I can’t really tell what it is.”

Aphrodite looked at the fence, in turn.

“It’s perfectly ordinary though,” she said. “It looks no different from yesterday.”

“Guess I must be hallucinating then,” Gwenn sighed. “Oh well, let’s go.”

Unsure why exactly she was doing that, Aphrodite took a picture of the fence.

 _Just in case. It might be useful to remember it._ _And if it turns out to be useless, it won’t be a big deal anyway._

The elevator was far less crowded than it had been before, which made Aphrodite feel a little nauseous. How long ago was it, when Alexander had been standing there? It felt like a decade, but it had barely been a few weeks. Maybe less.

“Oh, here you are!”

Jordana was coming toward Aphrodite, dragging her to one of the corners of the elevator.

“What is it? You have something to tell me?”

“I investigated Typhaine’s room,” Jordana explained with a conspirator smile. “I had a feeling there’d be something interesting in there.”

“Oh? And was there?”

Jordana put a hand through her pocket, and fished out a little plastic object, which she put in Aphrodite’s hand.

“A pregnancy test?” Aphrodite whispered, raising en eyebrow.

“Unused. I figured it might be useful. Oh, I also made a list of the different rooms, and who was supposed to sleep where.”

She gave Aphrodite a little paper as the doors opened. Aphrodite unfolded it and read its content.

Room 101: Ferdinand, Magalie

Room 102: Gwenn, Aphrodite

Room 103: Rebecca, Typhaine

Room 104: Ryoji, Bob, Lisa

Apartment suite n°1: Lucien

Apartment suite n°2: Florian

Science lab n°2: Jordana

She pocketed the item as she entered the trial room with the others.

_It could indeed be useful. I just hope it’s accurate. But why is she helping me?_

Aphrodite quickly found her desk again. Lisa had used to be by her side, but now only a portrait erected in her place could evoke her memory. Stuck between two dead people’s seats (Lisa and Roberta), Aphrodite suddenly felt a little cold. It was as if the heavy portraits were suddenly going to collapse and crush her to death.

“Let me warn you,” Monoblade said coldly. “I have a punishment ready for each of you. If you get this wrong, it’s going to _hurt.”_

“Oh my, so scary,” Jordana chuckled. “It sounds like someone is regretting all of their life’s choices, doesn’t it?”

“Are you completely devoid of fear?” Gwenn asked nervously. “You’re insulting the-”

“The idiot who’s responsible for the death of his own daughter, and who only now realizes how much she mattered to him? Yes, I am.”

Jordana smiled at Monoblade.

“But insulting him isn’t against the rules, is it?”

Monoblade didn’t reply.

“Oh while I’m at it, I have a question for you Monoblade.”

“Go ahead.”

“What happens if someone murders someone else _during_ a class trial?”

Monoblade looked truly shocked by the question, and so did most of the students.

_Why would she ask something like that? What could she possibly be thinking?_

“I haven’t thought about it,” Monoblade replied. “It would be a little stupid, wouldn’t it? To kill someone in front of so many witnesses? Besides, weapons are not allowed in the courtroom.”

“But what if someone did it anyway? What would happen then?”

“Uh… I guess the students would need to finish the current trial before they could start the investigation. They’d simply have to do two trials in a row.”

“Oh, so that’s how it works? I see. Thank you very much.”

Everyone looked at Jordana frightfully. Surrounded by four empty desks (Alexander’s, Sébastien’s, Suzie’s, Bertrand’s), she was completely isolated from the rest of the group. And yet she smiled purely, resting her head on one of her hand as if she had just asked the most mundane of questions.

“What is it everyone? What are you waiting for? Let’s get started.”


	30. Class Trial 3 - Spring Edition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cast of survivors (UPDATED): https://imgur.com/a/MzPXC4n

“What is it everyone? What are you waiting for? Let’s get started.”

Jordana’s hair had gotten much longer since her kidnapping. The blue dye had mostly faded, revealing the brown roots underneath. She was dressed as elegantly as ever, wearing a black and red dress with a light yellow scarf. She was only wearing one earring: the other one must have fallen off at some point.

 _Why am I staring at her like this?_ Aphrodite wondered. _She’s right, we should focus on the trial._

“How are we supposed to get started, however?” Florian asked, crossing his arms. “We do not even have a body to inspect.”

“We have a hand,” Gwenn said stupidly.

“Is that it?”

Florian sounded a little disgusted, somehow.

“We found it in the sewers, as you probably already know,” Aphrodite explained. “But the rest was washed off by the stream. Even if we spent hours looking for it, I doubt we would find anything else.”

“Tch,” Florian replied. “Useless.”

“Excuse me?” Aphrodite replied, eyes narrowing.

Her anger was flaring, once more. She knew that it was mostly because she was upset by Lisa’s death, but that didn’t stop her from wanting to slap Florian in his stupid face.

“Guys,” Typhaine said, sounding a little sick. “Have you been to the crime scene?”

“You mean, room 104?” Magalie asked.

“Yes. Have you been there?”

“I have,” Ferdinand said, placing his fist on his chest. “I spent quite a while in there. I cannot describe the cold feeling of despair it brought me, but I stood there to guard the place anyway. Why do you ask?”

“That cold feeling,” Typhaine repeated, as if in a dream.

“I sensed it too,” Lucien admitted, apparently uneasy.

 _What are they talking about?_ Aphrodite wondered.

“What are you all babbling about?” Florian asked, sounding annoyed. “Is it not completely normal to feel uneasy when you are standing near a pool of blood?”

“It was more than that,” Typhaine said, her voice raspy.

She was grasping both of her shoulders with her hands; her cap, slightly bending toward the front, was casting a shadow on her eyes.

“It was… like an angry feeling, possessing this room. Like a raging fire contained in a tight space. It… it hurt me.”

“I see what you mean!” Ferdinand shouted, shaking a little. “As if a malevolent spirit was roaming, ready to latch on us at any moment.”

“Y-you really felt that?” Ryoji asked, eyes wide. “Shouldn’t that concern us?”

“It was indeed awful,” Jordana commented, pretending to faint. “The spirits were so angry, it nearly melted my makeup away!”

“Guys,” Typhaine croaked, bending her knees a little. “You have to believe me! I think… I think this crime wasn’t committed by one of us. Or… by a human.”

She was crying a little.

“I think the Lord himself took Lisa away.”

“What?” Florian asked, snapping his fingers angrily. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve heard all day!”

“That can truly happen?” Ferdinand asked frightfully.

“Nah, of course not,” Gwenn said, turning their head at Lucien. “Right?”

But Lucien said nothing. He had placed both of his hands on his desk, and was staring at them silently.

“Oh come on, don’t scare me like that. Say something already!”

“Do not shout,” Typhaine begged. “We have been cursed, cursed by sin! The Lord was enraged, and he chose Lisa as his victim. The devil came to take her away!”

Either she was a formidable actress, or she truly believed in what she was saying. She looked completely ill, shaking and sweating. Though Magalie and Florian looked purely doubtful, Rebecca, Ferdinand, Gwenn and Lucien seemed to give some credence to what she was saying.

 _Of course, they’d want to believe it, Aphrodite thought. It’d be much nicer if we could all blame the devil instead of one of us. But I have to bring them_ _to_ _the correct path._

“Typhaine, answer this question for me. Why do you think the Lord targeted Lisa specifically?”

“Lisa… must have been deeply unfaithful,” Typhaine muttered. “She must have sinned, sinned terribly, and thus the Lord decided to remove her from this world. Before she could cause more harm to us.”

“Hey!” Ryoji shouted. “Lisa wasn’t that kind of person!”

“If the Lord could do that, I wonder why he didn’t remove Monoblade too?” Magalie asked curiously. “No matter how bad Lisa could be, I can’t think of any sin she could have committed worse than his.”

“She must have had a secret,” Typhaine said. “A dark, dark secret.”

“No, she didn’t,” Aphrodite replied firmly. We had a motive concerning secrets lately, don’t you remember? If Lisa had been a serial killer or something, then it would have _definitely_ been on her monopad. But Ryoji and I read her secret, and it’s just that she cheated on her boyfriend from high-school.”

Typhaine looked very disappointed.

“Then how do you explain the cross?” She asked plaintively. “Why was there a cross painted in blood at the crime scene?”

“It was likely put there to frame Lucien,” Ryoji explained. “It’s a bit of a weird choice, though.”

“So… no angry deities are at work?” Ferdinand asked, sounding insecure.

“Of course not, idiot,” Magalie replied, resisting the urge to slap him. “You don’t even believe in god!”

“Oh, true.”

“Now that this silly business has been settled, may we actually start the debate?” Florian asked, sounding pained.

“Yes please,” Jordana said. “I never believed these idiocies in the first place.”

“But you said-” Ryoji began.

“Let her be,” Aphrodite cut in. “So, Florian, did you want to say something in particular?”

“Just the usual starters,” Florian replied with a shrug. “Who saw Lisa last, for one thing.”

“It was Typhaine. We found Lisa’s monopad at the crime scene, she sent Typhaine a text asking them to meet, and Typhaine confirmed that they did.”

“We were together in the elevator room,” Typhaine said miserably. “But I don’t know what happened after that.”

“Well if that is not extremely suspicious,” Florian commented with a little self-satisfied grin.

“Hold on,” Ferdinand said. “It is far too early to start pointing fingers!”

“True, we should probably start by figuring out the culprit’s movements,” Ryoji asserted.

“But how can we even do that?” Gwenn asked. “Do we even know the cause of death?”

“Let’s discuss that first,” Magalie suggested. “After all, there aren’t that many ways to kill someone in this facility.”

“Let’s see,” Rebecca began. “Uh… there was a big bloody rock at the crime scene, so maybe she was bludgeoned to death?”

“Well, maybe someone beat her with their bare hands,” Gwenn said frightfully. “Ferdinand could have probably done it.”

“Knights do not beat up people!” Ferdinand complained loudly.

“Maybe the culprit didn’t use blunt force,” Lucien reflected. “Maybe Lisa was strangled, just like Roberta?”

“Are you guys complete idiots?” Florian asked, crinkling his nose in disdain. “It is more likely that she bled to death. There was blood everywhere at the crime scene, for heaven’s sake! Have you even investigated at all?”

“I think she drowned,” Jordana chanted.

“Yep, I agree,” Aphrodite cut in. “We found evidence at the water room.”

“Oh, the nails you mean?” Rebecca asked.

“Indeed. Lisa’s hand was missing nails, and you found some nails at the bottom of the basin. There were also some scratch marks against the edge of the basin’s wall, and on the floor – I assume she struggled when the culprit attempted to drown her.”

“Oh, yikes,” Ryoji commented, as if the culprit had attempted to drown him too. “That must have hurt so much! Poor Lisa...”

“So does that mean we can consider the water room as the crime scene?” Rebecca asked.

“But where does that get us?” Magalie asked. “Anyone could have gone to the water room.”

“Hm,” Ryoji said, “is that true...?”

“Aha, I got it!” Florian said. “Lisa was pretty strong, was she not? Only an equally strong person could have drowned her. So the culprit must be either Ferdinand or Rebecca!”

He pointed his finger dramatically at the both of them, but only received sighs in response.

“Florian, please,” Magalie said. “The adults are talking.”

“It’s sincerely getting old,” Gwenn added.

“But… but it’s a completely valid argument!” Florian complained angrily.

 _“_ _Every time_ you argue that only a fit person could commit the crime, and _every time_ you end up accusing Rebecca,” Magalie complained. “And she’s never the culprit!”

“She very nearly was last time,” Florian pouted.

“We already said that it was too soon to throw accusations,” Aphrodite said. “Besides, it doesn’t mean anything. The culprit could have stunned Lisa first, and then drowned her. This way, even a weaker person could have committed the murder.”

“Damn,” Florian said. “That’s true.”

He let out a frustrated dog-like growl, and looked at his feet.

“Wow Flo, you’ve got so much better at handling your anger issues!” Jordana said cheerfully, clapping her hands. “Well done!”

“I’m not your pet,” Florian spat.

"If we could please resume our conversation," Magalie sighed. "Let's assume Lisa was drowned. Why was there blood in her room then?"

"And why did the culprit feel the need to stun Ryoji?" Ferdinand added. "Is that not simply cruel?"

"I believe those facts are connected," Aphrodite explained, placing her index finger against her temple. "The culprit wanted to get rid of the body so that figuring out the crime would be much more difficult. The sewer maze is huge, they knew we wouldn't find her there."

"That doesn't really explain the blood though, does it?" Rebecca asked.

"If they had simply thrown Lisa's body in the sewers, it might have not been carried by the stream, which is why they cut her to pieces."

Rebecca looked like she was about to throw up.

"It's a perfectly logical move," Magalie commented. "But yikes. Who would do that?"

"So the reason they stunned me," Ryoji began, "is so I wouldn't witness the crime?"

"Indeed," Aphrodite said. "The culprit probably hid their face with a piece of cloth before entering the room, then hit you with the nearest object before they got to work. You don't happen to remember..."

"What they looked like? No, I don't think I even woke up before the culprit attacked me."

"I see."

"Well, that's one mystery solved at least," Gwenn said, sounding disgusted.

“At any rate, none of this matters,” Jordana said, brutally changing the subject. “Because Typhaine is the culprit.”

“Eh?” Typhaine said, shaking her head. “No no, it’s not me.”

“You’re the last person who saw Lisa alive,” Jordana chanted. “And you have no alibi, do you?”

“That doesn’t mean I killed her!” Typhaine shouted, angrily stomping the floor. “Please, someone say something!”

“What is your basis for suspecting Typhaine?” Magalie asked.

“Hey, why are you taking _her_ seriously?” Florian complained. “When I tried to point fingers, you told me that it was too early to-”

“Yes, but it’s Jordana,” Magalie countered. “It’s not as easy to make her shut up.”

“Damn,” Florian said. “Does _anyone_ respect me in here?”

“I think it’s suspicious that Typhaine accused Jesus of committing the murder, of all people,” Jordana said, completely ignoring Florian. “Also, I have a very strong intuition that she’s the culprit, so that’s that. And well, she has no alibi, as I already said.”

“Is that it?” Ryoji asked. “That’s a bit weak.”

“Also, you’re wrong,” Aphrodite added. “Typhaine _does_ have an alibi.”

“Oh? Whatever could it be?” Jordana asked, leaning on her desk curiously.

“Lisa’s body was probably cut in little pieces: that’s why I could only find her hand in the sewers. What do you think the culprit used to sever her limbs?”

“Not the circular saw from last time?”

“Nope, because that one has been thrown into the sewers. But our construction team had access to a toolbox, and there was another saw in there.”

“It is truly dreadful that the culprit would use it for that,” Lucien said in anger. “If only I had known...”

His voice faltered.

“But only the members of manual team know the code to open the toolbox,” Aphrodite explained. “And Typhaine is a part of the intellectual team. How do you suggest she took the saw?”

“Hm,” Jordana said, seriously considering the problem. “I don’t suppose anyone simply told her what the code was?”

“It was strictly prohibited,” Rebecca reminded her. “And very dangerous too. None of us would have done something like that!”

“Hm,” Jordana said, sounding unsatisfied.

“So...” Gwenn began. “Does that mean that all of the members from intellectual team have an alibi, then?”

“It would seem so,” Ryoji said, sounding uncertain.

“Great, that means we narrowed down the list of suspects to half of the group!”

“But that’s still not enough,” Magalie reminded them. “We still have five remaining suspects. How do we determine which one of them did it?”

“Maybe there’s a clue in Lisa’s movements somehow,” Ryoji suggested. “Uh, like… do we know what she did after she talked with Typhaine?”

“I saw her heading to her room,” Typhaine said. “I don’t know what she did after that.”

“Well, according to her monopad, she had a meeting with Robert in the robot room, correct?” Lucien asked.

“Did anyone inspect the robot room?” Ferdinand asked.

“We did!” Gwenn said, raising their hand.

“Well, don’t keep us waiting,” Magalie replied. “Did you find anything strange in there?”

“Would you call a pile of stuff falling on top of me strange?”

“I’m not sure. Can you be a bit more specific?”

“A trap was set in the robot room,” Aphrodite explained. “We still don’t really know why, and by whom.”

“How did it work?” Ryoji asked.

“A large stack of items had been placed on a dolly. A thread had been hung to one of the dolly’s wheels, with the other end tied to a pipe stuck to the wall: that way anyone who entered the room would trip and fall, which would move the dolly and make the stack fall on top of them.”

A little silence rewarded her explanation.

“What?” Florian eventually said. “Is this really what happened?”

“But who would set a prank like that?” Rebecca asked curiously.

“Ask Bob, he’s the one who sent the text,” Jordana chimed in.

“Eh?” Bob said. “I didn’t send anythin’, gimme a break.”

“Don’t deny it!” Rebecca replied, putting her hands on her hips. “The text on Lisa’s monopad came from you!”

“If he simply wanted to prank her, I doubt he would deny it,” Florian argued. “It’s possible Bob’s monopad was simply stolen during the day.”

“Hey Flo, that was pretty smart,” Jordana noticed. “Are you sure you’re feeling fine?”

“Shut up,” Florian replied darkly (or trying to sound dark, but in fact he merely sounded childish).

“Children, please,” Magalie sighed. “This is an important conversation.”

“Hey, Aphrodite?” Gwenn asked. “If it’s not Bob who set the trap, do you think that…?”

“Yeah,” she replied, “it seems likely that Jordana did it.”

“How come?” Ryoji asked.

“Well, because we found Jordana there, in the robot room, sleeping in one of the relaxation cells.”

“Oh, right. That would make sense then.”

“Oh, so I’m the one who did it?” Jordana asked. “How shocking!”

“But what were you trying to _do?”_ Gwenn asked, exasperated.

“I don’t know, I don’t remember anything.”

“Oh come _on,”_ Rebecca said. “Now is not the time for your stupid games! Just tell us already!”

“Oh,” Aphrodite suddenly said. “I think I get it.”

“Get what?” Magalie asked.

“What Jordana was trying to do.”

“Would you mind explaining?” Lucien requested politely.

“It was never meant to be a prank. Jordana was planning to kill Lisa.”

“No way!” Ferdinand shouted. “I refuse to believe it!”

“It doesn’t sound so strange now that I think about it,” Rebecca said, dejected.

“Seriously?” Gwenn shouted. “Seriously Jordana? I was finally beginning to like you!”

“Well, I don’t know what to say,” Jordana replied, eyes closed. “After all, I don’t see what you’re talking about!”

“She’s a fucking clown, that one,” Magalie snapped. “Can’t you be serious for a _second?”_

“Please, Aphrodite,” Ryoji said softly. “Can you explain to us? I’m not sure I understand how she was planning to murder Lisa with that.”

Aphrodite thought Ryoji was oddly calm. Not only had he lost his best friend, he had also been attacked during the night, taken to the hospital, and amputated for the… fourth time now? And yet he stood tall in his prison uniform, softly asking Aphrodite to explain how exactly the crazy girl of the group had planned to murder his friend.

_Is he truly okay? Is this denial? Or is he getting used to the class trials?_

All solid questions, for a later time.

“Jordana’s plan was to kill Lisa, and make it look like an accident,” Aphrodite explained. “The robot room was dark, but the switch is pretty far from the door: Lisa couldn’t have seen the trap. She would have tripped, fallen, and gotten lost underneath the pile of crates, just like Gwenn did when we investigated earlier. I assume Jordana was waiting for her to arrive: all she would have to do was hit Lisa on the head with a heavy object, then remove the dolly and the thread, and leave the room.”

“Oh,” Gwenn said. “So the big, heavy robot arm which was laying on the floor next to the sleeping cell...”

“That was her intended murder weapon, yes.”

“Oh no, I don’t believe it!” Jordana said, giggling. “Me, coming up with a murder plot so… undignified?”

“That is not-” Ferdinand began, apparently looking for the right words. “Please, defend yourself seriously!”

“All right,” Jordana said, pushing a lock of hair from her eyes. “What reason do you have for suspecting me, _Aphrodite Persée?_ Even though I was in that room, someone else could have set that trap.”

Aphrodite raised an eyebrow.

“Why the full name? Anyway, it’s pretty simple when you think about it. When we woke you up from the relaxation cell, you asked if Lisa had died. But you hadn’t heard the body discovery announcement, and you had no way of knowing she was the victim in this case. This means you must have planned to kill her, and were wondering if your plan had succeeded.”

Jordana glared at the rest of the group, looking pensive.

“You know, she has a point!” She chuckled. “That does make me look very suspicious, huh.”

“No way, no way,” Ferdinand said, sweating. “Jordana has a pretty good intuition, no? Mayhaps that was simply a guess on her part!”

“Oh thank you Ferdinand, my proud knight!” Jordana replied, beaming at him. “Oh wait, you’re not a knight anymore. Silly me.”

“Just admit it already, you, you…!”

Typhaine’s fists were clenched tightly, and she was punching her desk in anger. She seemed to be looking for the right insult, but failed to find anything.

“But Bob sent the text!” Jordana replied, pointing her finger at him. “Isn’t that super suspicious? Maybe he forced me into the relaxation cell to make me look like the villain!”

“I hate to admit that is actually a good argument,” Florian mumbled. “But it is.”

Aphrodite frowned.

_How do I definitely prove that she was the one? It seems obvious to everyone, but it feels wrong to accuse her without any strong evidence._

“Wait, I got it. Bob, do you still have you monopad?”

“Eh? Uh, nah, dun’t think so. Why?”

“Well, if we can prove it was stolen by Jordana, that’d both be enough to clear your name and to prove she’s the one who set the trap in the robot room.”

“We found a monopad in the relaxation cell, didn’t we?” Gwenn said triumphantly. “We just need to turn it on to check!”

“Oh,” Jordana said. “Okay then, I guess I might as well confess already. Because it’s the truth after all.”

“Guilty as charged!” Typhaine squeaked. “I always knew we couldn’t trust you!”

“Uh, Typhaine?” Ryoji asked nervously. “Why are you getting so worked up? Do you want a hug?”

“No I don’t want a hug, I want justice!” Typhaine yelled in protest.

“Oh, what a nice phrase,” Ferdinand commented. “I feel like I should remember it.”

“Please focus,” Florian sighed. “We have a confession and hard evidence, we can safely assume Jordana is the one who set the trap. But that begs the question: why did we find Lisa’s body in the sewers, and not in the robot room?”

“True,” Ryoji pondered. “If the trap only activated when Gwenn came to investigate, that means Lisa never went to the robot room that night.”

“How rude!” Jordana pouted. “I prepare this perfect trap for her, and she doesn’t even show up? Bob, you should be ashamed of your dead friend, for caring so little about you.”

“You fuckin’ shut up,” Bob replied, voice dripping with hate. “You dun’t talk about her like that, ya cunt!”

“Oops, I awoke the beast,” Jordana said with a chuckle. “Has anybody brought a net?”

“Forget about nets!” Typhaine shouted. “You need to answer for your crime!”

“My… crime?” Jordana asked, tilting her head to one side. “Which one?”

“Lisa’s murder of course! You basically confessed.”

“Oh, right! I guess we should start the vote, then, huh.”

“What?” Ferdinand shouted. “Already?”

“Well duh,” Gwenn said. “We know Jordana was planning to kill Lisa, it’s obvious what happened next. When her plan failed, she simply came up with another one!”

“You have no alibi, do you?” Magalie asked suspiciously.

“By any chance, is there a way to know for how long a person slept in a relaxation cell?” Ryoji asked, placing his thumb against his forehead. “Like, does it keep a record of who goes in an out, and for how long?”

“Good question,” Aphrodite replied. “Monoblade?”

“No, it doesn’t,” The kidnapper explained. “The computers that used to be connected to the relaxation cells kept records, but you don’t have those, so basically you have no way of knowing for how long Jordana slept in there. It could have been ten minutes or sixteen hours for all you know.”

“So definitely no alibi, huh,” Magalie replied.

“Still, that doesn’t mean Jordana is necessarily the culprit,” Aphrodite argued. “We have no proof that she committed the crime, do we?”

“She’s part of manual team, though?” Gwenn retorted. “She could have gotten the saw no problem.”

“Uhm, but how exactly?” Jordana asked. “Wasn’t it raining last night?”

A moment of silent welcomed her question.

“Indeed, it was. What is your point?”

“Well, unless I’m mistaken, there’s no umbrella in this facility, is there? So like… how did I avoid getting wet?”

“You could have just used something else to protect yourself from the rain,” Gwenn countered. “That’s a flimsy excuse.”

“No, I don’t think so,” Rebecca replied with a frown. “Because I’ve been paying a lot of attention to water in my investigation, and I pretty much went everywhere. An object unnaturally soaked would have gotten my attention, I think.”

“Besides, even if Jordana somehow managed to avoid the rain, her shoes should be muddy,” Aphrodite added. “Because of the sand in the parking lot. You can’t exactly avoid it. There’s even a large puddle of mud near the shack’s entrance.”

“Is it possible that Jordana got a change of clothes?” Ryoji asked, sounding uneasy. “I remember her wearing those yesterday, but I could be wrong...”

“No, she was definitely wearing those clothes yesterday,” Lucien said firmly. “I can testify to that, and so should most of us.”

“But...”

Ryoji was twitching his hands nervously.

“But there must be some kind of mistake,” he said weakly. “Because… if we’re right, then the culprit can only be...”

His voice died. He sounded like he was about to cry again. Aphrodite closed her eyes. She didn’t want to say it either, however, they had no choice.

“Bob, did you murder Lisa?”


	31. Class Trial 3 - Summer Edition

All heads turned to Bob. He had barely said anything since the beginning of the trial, but it was undeniable: his clothes were still damp, and his shoes were definitely muddy. Out of all the members in the courtroom, he was the only one who had spent some time under the rain.

“Well Bob, I think you got a lil’ splaining to do,” Gwenn said uneasily.

“I dun’t got nothin’ to say,” Bob snarled. “Back off.”

“Oh, okay, okay. Nevermind me!”

“No,” Typhaine said, glaring daggers at Bob. “You can’t get away with it so easily.”

“With what? Yer actually accusing _me,_ of all people?”

Bob was shaking with rage.

“Yer sayin’ I murdered my best bud? Yer sayin’ I was so desperate to escape I chopped her to lil’ bits and dumped her in the sewers?”

“I am,” Typhaine replied defiantly.

“And yer also sayin’ I stunned Ryo, yer sayin’ I took a massive rock and slammed it against his head?”

He was getting louder and louder, as anger was swelling up within his chest, but Typhaine refused to back down.

“I don’t care what you say!” She squeaked. “You were outside in the parking lot, and you have to explain yourself for-”

“Shut UP!” Bob roared. “You fuckin’ _bitch,_ ya dun’t even realize how badly yer insultin’ me? I… I… I would never do sum’thin’ like this, never!”

His voice was faltering. He was looking at the others, seeking help, but only met doubtful gazes.

“I’m not… I’m not that kinda person, ya know it!”

He was shouting, but his sentence ended up in a whisper.

“Right?”

“You are a member of manual team,” Lucien said. “You definitely look strong enough to drown Lisa. Evidence suggests that you were out of your room last night, and do I need to remind you that you tried to break into my room too?”

Bob looked away in shame. Ryoji, who had already been pale and anxious, looked even worse now.

“He… what?”

“I guess some of you may not know,” Lucien said. “I was saving it for the morning announcement, but a class trial is as good a time as any to break the news. Last night our _dear_ friend Robert drank a little too much, and thought it smart to storm into my room in the middle of the night, shouting threats and insults.”

“He’s lyin’,” Bob replied, staring at his feet. “I never did that.”

“Uh, but the door was forced, no?” Ferdinand asked, sounding uneasy.

Aphrodite shared the picture.

“In fact, the handle was completely unscrewed,” she explained.

“Bob must have borrowed a screwdriver from the toolbox,” Jordana chanted. “And then he noticed the saw in there, and probably thought: ‘Oh hey baby, want to meet some human flesh?’”

“Ya disgust me,” Bob said weakly.

“It doesn’t sound so unlikely, coming from Bob,” Magalie admitted. “He and Lucien were constantly arguing before.”

“I’m almost surprised Lucien isn’t the one who died!” Jordana chimed in.

“Maybe he tried to kill Lucien,” Typhaine said darkly. “And then when he realized Lucien was too strong for him, he moved on to an easier target.”

“Ya got no proof, so shut up!” Bob yelled in fury. “I keep tellin’ ya, I didn’t do it!”

“Are you saying you never even went to Lucien’s apartment suite?” Florian asked curiously. “That is a bold claim.”

“Because if you didn’t go, then who did?” Magalie asked. “Remember the rain: you’re the only one who’s wet.”

“I’m sure he’s telling the truth!” Ryoji said, his eyes watery again. “J-just tell us why you were outside, Bob, okay? Please, do it for your bro.”

Somehow, that seemed to hurt Bob more than anything he had heard before. He shook his head and remained silent, one hand clutched around his stomach as if he were about to throw up.

“Wow, he won’t even obey his boyfriend?” Jordana commented, sounding bored. “Well it’s not like us losers are going to make him talk now.”

“We do not need him to talk,” Lucien said firmly. “All the evidence we need is the bruise on his cheek.”

“Where does it come from?” Aphrodite asked.

“He attacked me last night,” Lucien explained. “Naturally I sought to defend myself. I also have some bruises on my wrists, which he inflected on me when he tried to restrain my movements. I assume they should be enough to prove the truth I speak?”

Lucien extended his arms for everyone to see. Aphrodite eyed the bruises. The shape and size were consistent with his story, from what she could tell.

“Bob!” Ryoji said desperately. “If he’s lying, just tell us how you got that bruise! M-maybe we can help you prove it? There must be evidence somewhere, if you’re innocent we can help you!”

Bob didn’t reply. He was biting his lip hard enough for it to bleed.

Jordana yawned.

“This is all fun and good, but when do we move on to accusing Typhaine?”

“What?” Ferdinand asked.

“What?” Typhaine repeated.

“As I’ve said over and over, Typhaine is the culprit,” Jordana stated calmly. “I just _know_ she is. Harassing Bob is all fun and stuff, but we might want to move on to the _real_ culprit at some point.”

“Have you even been paying attention to the trial at all?” Gwenn snapped. “Typhaine isn’t part of manual team, and she didn’t go out in the rain either!”

“If you have nothing but irrational claims to make, you might as well shut up,” Florian added quietly. “I believe the case to be settled.”

“So do I,” Lucien said. “There can only be one culprit for this murder.”

“I don’t like it,” Magalie said. “But Bob’s behavior makes him pretty suspicious.”

“I told you he was the culprit!” Typhaine said triumphantly. “Bob, get ready to face eternal damnation!”

 _Is Bob really the culprit?_ Aphrodite wondered. _The evidence_ _points to_ _him_ _as_ _the most likely suspect, but I can hardly believe he would_ _murder_ _Lisa._

“What would be his motive?” She asked. “If we can’t clear that up, voting for him will remain risky.”

“Simple,” Lucien said. “Remember that Monoblade offered to give us information in exchange for murder. We also know that Lisa was Monoblade’s daughter.”

“What are you suggesting?” Ferdinand asked.

“Obviously, we have no way of knowing what Robert has learned,” Lucien stated, calmly. “But we can make certain inferences. For instance, since we know that Lisa was a part of the kidnappers’ family, who says she was not secretly working for them?”

“Oooh, that makes sense,” Gwenn said. “He felt betrayed, and he wanted to get his revenge!”

“How dare you,” Ryoji said weakly. “Lisa helped us so much, have you already forgotten? She’s the one who solved both of the previous class trials!”

“Well, maybe that was part of the kidnappers’ plan for all we know,” Gwenn replied, rolling eyes. “It’s not that far-fetched.”

“I am decidedly unhappy with this situation,” Jordana said calmly. “We will all die if we vote for Bob now.”

“Show us evidence then,” Florian said arrogantly. “Oh wait, you don’t have any. Shut up and know your place, harlot.”

“Wow, you know big words Flo,” Jordana mocked, but she lacked her usual energy.

 _Is this really okay?_ Aphrodite wondered. _Am I not forgetting_ _anything_ _?_

“Bob!” Ryoji pleaded. “Please, say something!”

“What’s the point?” Bob asked, bursting into tears. “I dun’t care no more. Vote for me if ya like, it’s okay. Go ahead.”

“I believe we have a confession,” Lucien said with a tired smile.

“It still doesn’t feel right,” Rebecca replied, frowning.

“Obviously it does not. I am not particularly happy to point my finger at Robert either, but what can we do? Such is the way of class trials.”

“Monoblade,” Ryoji said in a shaky voice. “Am I allowed to move from my desk?”

“Eh? Of course you are, dummy.”

“Thank you.”

Ryoji’s seat was pretty far from Bob’s. He moved slowly, silently. Everyone was looking at him, except for Bob who was looking at his feet. Ryoji walked behind Florian, Ferdinand, Magalie, Julie’s empty desk. Next came Gwenn, and Roberta’s portrait, and Aphrodite. She gave him a curious glance, but he ignored her. The final desk was Lisa’s, and then Bob’s.

_Is he going to hug him? Aphrodite wondered. Is he going to bring Bob back to his senses with one of his miraculous hugs? That would be expected from the ultimate-_

“You idiot!” Ryoji shouted, shaking Bob’s shoulders madly. “Why aren’t you saying anything? You aren’t the culprit!”

“Huh?” Bob muttered, shocked back to reality. “B-but… how can I prove it?”

Ryoji rolled his eyes.

“Moron. You can’t even open the door to the sewers.”

There was a brief moment of awkward silence.

“I can’t?”

“Hold on a second, what?” Florian said from across the room. “What’s that all about now?”

“Ah, you wouldn’t know,” Ryoji said. “There’s a trick to opening the sewers. I figured it out after Suzie’s trial, there’s a little switch under my bed. If you press it, it elevates the tile, and then you can remove it manually. I wanted to show everyone my discovery back then, but...”

“But Bob and Lisa were busy investigating at the time,” Aphrodite suddenly realized. “They never knew about the switch, because They were searching the second floor!”

“And Florian and I never knew either, because we didn’t care about saving Suzie,” Jordana summarized. “Hm.”

“How could you all forget that?” Ryoji asked, sounding more pained than actually angry. “It’s crucial information!”

“Wait,” Lucien said. “But you and Bob went back to the sewers on the day of Suzie’s execution, did you not? I assumed you had showed him how to open the secret passage then.”

“Yeah, but no,” Ryoji said. “The thing is, I planned to go alone that day. Bob only joined me after I opened the secret passage.”

“It’s possible he found the switch on his own!” Typhaine squeaked. “He’s not cleared of suspicion!”

“No,” Aphrodite said firmly. “Think about it: if you didn’t know there was a trick to opening the passage, you’d figure it could be done manually. You wouldn’t go after mysterious switches.”

“Not to mention, it looks just like a light switch,” Ryoji added. “You wouldn’t think it’d be related to the secret passage at all.”

“Whut, whut?” Bob was saying, sounding lost, and hopeful at the same time. “Yo, so like… I have an alibi? I’m not the culprit?”

“Of course!” Ryoji shouted. “It’s obvious you wouldn’t kill Lisa, but now it’s not even _possible_ for you to have done it!”

Ryoji raised his arms widely, and wrapped his bro into a tight hug. Both cried a little, but Lucien didn’t look charmed by their little friendly bonding moment.

“It is still possible that Bob worked with an accomplice,” he said coldly. “He’s not free of suspicion yet.”

“No, but it proves that there’s more to this case than we thought,” Aphrodite said, arms crossed. “We can’t vote yet, we have much more to talk about.”

“We keep pointing our fingers at each other, but is that getting us anywhere?” Magalie asked, sounding a little disappointed. “There’s too many areas of uncertainty concerning this case, it feels like we can never solve it completely.”

“It’s fine, you can just rely on my intuition,” Jordana said happily. “Everything will be all right if you do!”

“Like hell we will.”

Aphrodite took a moment to think.

 _If we take into account the new information concerning the sewers’ entrance, we can narrow down the list of suspects just a little more –_ _but it’s still not enough._

Still, there was one piece of evidence she had ignored so far. Looking through the pictures on her monopad, she found it again: the weird bits of wood stuck within the floorboards in the restaurant, and the scratch marks on the table. If she took those into account, then perhaps… yes, they could lead her to the culprit. Exchanging a glance with Ryoji (who was still hugging Bob tightly), she understood that he had realized it too.

“I think I know who the culprit is,” Aphrodite announced, a little louder than usual. “There’s still a few points I’m unsure about though. Will you guys help me?”

“Yes, we will,” Ferdinand said with a nod. “Please explain your reasoning.”


	32. Class Trial 3 - Autumn Edition

“I’d like to rewind a bit,” Aphrodite began. “Using all our previous deductions, let’s repeat everyone’s alibis that have been collected so far.”

“Okay,” Magalie said. “We can definitely assume the culprit used the saw, which means they must be a member of manual team.”

“Indeed. That means we can cross Ryoji, Gwenn, Magalie, Typhaine, Florian and I from our suspect list.”

“Okay,” Gwenn said. “What next?”

“The members of manual team are Bob, Rebecca, Lucien, Ferdinand, Jordana and the late Lisa,” Aphrodite summarized. “But we can cross off Bob and Jordana from our list, because they didn’t know about the trick to opening the sewers.”

“That leaves us with three people,” Magalie said, arms crossed.

“But Ferdinand can’t be the culprit either,” Ryoji said. “Because even if he knew the code to the toolbox, he can’t see the tiny numbers on the lock. He wouldn’t be able to open it on his own.”

“I just got a thought,” Gwenn said. “The culprit could have tried every combination until they found the correct one, right?”

“But there are four digits, it would take forever!” Jordana argued. “If they didn’t know about the code, it would be far easier to simply break the lock.”

“Indeed,” Aphrodite approved. “Since the culprit didn’t break the lock, we can assume they knew the code.”

“So if I understand correctly” Lucien began, “you claim that the culprit is either Rebecca or me.”

“Why is it always me?” Rebecca complained. “What god did I anger to constantly be in these kinds of situations?”

She sounded a little scared, but Aphrodite shook her head.

“I don’t suspect Rebecca either. Has any of you investigated the restaurant? There were little bit of wood stuck within the floorboards. For a while I wondered what those meant. But I recalled there was also a statuette missing from the workshop.”

“Are you saying these little bits of wood are fragments of from the statuette?” Ferdinand asked. “But how would they even get there?”

“I think the statuette broke, when the culprit used it to attack Lisa,” Aphrodite explained. “I think they tried to get rid of most of the pieces, but the smaller ones couldn’t be retrieved.”

“It is a bit light, in terms of evidence,” Florian commented. “These little bits of wood could have a different source.”

“But consider the table,” Aphrodite countered. “It clearly moved during the night, the scratch marks on the floorboards attest to that. As if someone had been forcefully pushed against the table.”

She shared the pictures, which Florian inspected thoroughly. He didn’t seem to have a rebuttal.

“So what?” Lucien asked. “Are you about to claim I am the culprit, simply because the statuette came from the workshop, which is next to my room? _Anyone_ could have entered the workshop. And may I remind you that my door was forced?”

“You bring up a valid point, but that’s not what I was about to say,” Aphrodite replied with a faint smile. “We need to ask ourselves: why would the culprit hit Lisa on the head with the statue?”

“Why?” Gwenn asked. “Uh...”

“I thought she had drowned,” Ferdinand said plaintively. “Now you claim she was bludgeoned to death?”

“Not to death,” Aphrodite corrected. “She was hit, but that doesn’t have to mean she died right there. I still believe she drowned.”

“But then, what was the point?” Gwenn asked.

“The point was that she wouldn’t struggle too much when the culprit drowned her in the basin,” Aphrodite explained. “The culprit knew that Lisa was physically strong, and was afraid of being overpowered. Which means Rebecca is probably not our culprit.”

“Are you saying that… me being physically fit is actually giving me an alibi?” Rebecca asked, in utter disbelief. “That would be a first!”

“Absurd,” Lucien countered. “This is in no way hard evidence. You will need better than that to prove I am the culprit.”

He didn’t seem particularly stressed out. His eyes were still closed, and he was making weird circle gestures with his hands.

“How dare you accuse Lucien of being the culprit!” Typhaine shouted angrily. “He’s been working very hard to save us all!”

“And he failed,” Jordana concluded mercilessly. “He said he would beat the killing game, and Lisa died. Even if he isn’t the culprit, he’s a failure at the very least.”

“You’re not allowed to say that!” Typhaine yelled, tears in her eyes. “Lucien’s a good man, blessed by the Lord-”

“The Lord who takes people’s lives?” Jordana asked darkly. “The one you claim took Lisa’s life at the beginning of this trial? That vengeful god who sends demons after human to bring them straight to hell?”

Typhaine had gotten pale. She stuttered something incomprehensible.

“I would like to add that I have no motive for killing Lisa either,” Lucien commented.

“Well duh, we all want to escape from this place,” Gwenn reminded him.

“And killing Lisa’s the safest choice, considering how good she was at solving these murder mysteries,” Magalie completed, coldly.

“If that were my true intention, why did I not act sooner?” Lucien argued calmly. “With the freeway motive, I could have easily murdered anyone, and fled this facility without going through a class trial. That would have been much more logical, and practically effortless.”

“So you claim that you didn’t leave your room at all last night?” Aphrodite asked. “When was the statuette taken, in your opinion?”

“During the day, I assume. I did not bother to check the shelf, for I had no idea it would be connected to the case.”

“So are you saying you were framed by the true culprit?” Ferdinand asked.

“It seems likely. The cross-shape in the bloodstain at the crime scene would hint to the same conclusion.”

“Hold on,” Jordana cut in. “How do we even know one of the statuettes were missing?”

Aphrodite shared the picture of the shelf on the group chat.

“There. There are four statuettes on each row, except for the middle one, which has only three. But they have been rearranged so that there’s no clear gap.”

“Yes, and that’s odd isn’t it?” Jordana asked. “If the culprit wanted to frame Lucien, they should leave an obvious gap in the shelf. For all they knew, we could have missed that clue.”

“Is that so?” Lucien asked. “You think that makes me suspicious? But you forget that I have an alibi too.”

“Being?” Magalie asked, arms crossed.

“The rain,” Lucien replied, calmly. “You claim I left my room? You claim I attacked Lisa in the restaurant? You claim I carried her body to the water room, grabbed the saw on my way out, and drowned her in the basin? But then pray tell, how did I avoid getting wet? I’m wearing the same robe as yesterday, several of you can attest to that.”

“There’s plenty of things you could have used to protect yourself from the water,” Gwenn replied angrily. “Any piece of cloth would do.”

“Then please, produce evidence. You say I used a piece of cloth to protect myself? Where is it now?”

“Ya could have easily dropped it down the sewers,” Bob said, dejected. “We’re never gonna find it.”

Ryoji was looking pensive. He hadn’t walked back to his desk, and was instead standing at Lisa’s, having pushed her portrait aside.

“How do we know it even rained last night?” He asked curiously. “Can someone testify to that?”

“Uh, yeah, I can bro,” Bob said with a shrug. “It was def’nit’ly rainin’ when I went out last night.”

“Not to mention, the sand was still damp when we gathered in the restaurant this morning,” Magalie said. “It’s likely it rained all night.”

“Is that so,” Ryoji said pensively. “Hey Bob, at what time did you go out last night anyway?”

“Eh? Uh… wasn’t very late actually. Not even 11pm. ‘fter that I got into a car, and fell asleep.”

“Why would you sleep in a car?” Florian asked curiously.

“Eh. Ol’ habits die hard.”

“And you didn’t meet with anyone beside Lucien, did you?” Ryoji asked.

“Nah, I never did.”

“Where are you driving at, Ryoji?” Aphrodite asked curiously.

“I’m just wondering if the rain isn’t… an excuse, in a way.”

“An excuse?” Lucien echoed flatly. “And how, pray tell, would rain be an _excuse?_ The sand was still damp this morning, this is a truth we cannot deny. Are you about to pretend I invoked the wrath of god to command the elements to do my bidding?”

“You are the ultimate priest,” Jordana said, faux-shocked. “Who says a good prayer can’t get you to obtain what you want?”

“Jordana, we have already told you more than once,” Lucien warned. “If you have nothing intelligent to say, then-”

“I get it!” Aphrodite shouted. “He used the sprinklers!”

“T-the sprinklers?” Gwenn repeated, shaking their head. “How would that help him?”

“Think about it. We know it was raining at the beginning of the night, thanks to Bob’s testimony. But who says it rained _all_ night? For all we know, it rained for fifteen minutes, and then never again. But if Lucien turned on the sprinklers on his way back, he could make us falsely believe it rained all night, thus giving himself an alibi.”

“Is that really possible?” Magalie asked, doubtful.

“It is,” Florian said. “The sprinklers have a pretty wide range, and are connected to the sink in the kitchen. He could have stopped them whenever he wanted.”

“You devious little fuck!” Jordana chanted cheerfully. “You should be a stage magician, not a priest.”

“No,” Lucien said, still as calm as before. “That is _not_ what happened.”

“Really now?” Magalie asked. “Is there a problem with our theory?”

“There is none, but you said it yourself. It is naught but a possibility, and a possibility does not equal proof.”

“Actually, I can prove it,” Aphrodite said with a smile.

“Really?” Lucien asked, his composure cracking for the first time since the beginning of the trial.

“Gwenn thought there was something odd about the fence, when we investigated this morning,” Aphrodite explained. “But when I inspected it, nothing struck me as odd.”

“But…?” Gwenn asked.

“But I took a picture anyway, just in case. The sprinklers may have a wide-enough reach to water the entire parking lot, but they can certainly not reach the fence. Which means...”

“If the fence is dry, it proves that the sprinklers were used!” Ryoji suddenly realized.

“Indeed. And who could benefit from that?”

“Lucien and Florian, who were sleeping above the restaurant,” Magalie summarized.

“But Florian isn’t part of manual team,” Aphrodite concluded. “So there’s only one possibility left at this point, isn’t there?”

“No, no, no, no,” Lucien said, getting paler and paler. “This isn’t how it was supposed to go. I… I...”

“I’m the culprit.”

Everyone turned to look at Typhaine.

“What?” Aphrodite asked, in shock.

“It’s me, I’m the culprit,” Typhaine said. “We can start the vote now.”


	33. Class Trial 3 - Winter Edition

Jordana looked extremely pleased with herself.

“Didn’t I tell you? Typhaine’s the culprit, it’s written all over her face. Go ahead, girl, tell them.”

“I refuse to believe it,” Ferdinand said weakly. “This day has already been too painful.”

“Typhaine, what’s going on?” Ryoji said gently. “Do you need help?”

“No, I don’t,” Typhaine replied fiercely. “I’m the culprit, and you should all hate me. I killed Lisa, our hero, and was stupid enough to think I could pin the crime on someone else. I deserve to die.”

“Woah, okay, no big deal,” Gwenn commented, getting paler.

“But you have an alibi,” Aphrodite said. “You couldn’t open the toolbox, so how did you get the saw?”

“I admit that you were right about some things,” Typhaine replied. “About Lucien attacking Lisa with the statuette in the restaurant, that part was true. But what you need to understand is that we’ve been working together.”

“Why…?” Lucien asked, dumbfounded. “Why would you say that now, of all times? Don’t you realize-”

“It’s my duty,” Typhaine replied fiercely. “I must do this for everyone, and confess the truth. Lucien attacked Lisa, but he never drowned her, and he never cut her body to pieces, and never threw the pieces into the sewers. That was all my doing.”

“Just as I thought,” Jordana chanted. “How utterly messed up! You did it out of love, I assume?”

“But this makes no sense,” Magalie countered angrily. “Why reveal it now?”

“Quiet, Magalie,” Jordana said. “Don’t you realize anything you ignorant slut? She’s protecting Lucien, obviously.”

“It _still_ makes no sense!” Magalie argued. “If she doesn’t want Lucien to die, then why didn’t she admit her crime in the first place? Why did she continually push us toward the wrong verdict?”

“Because despite her claim, she isn’t the true culprit,” Aphrodite said blankly. “All this time, she wanted us to reach the wrong verdict so Lucien could escape, even at the cost of her own death. She simply hasn’t given up.”

“No, that’s wrong,” Typhaine said, beginning to tear up. “I’m truly an accomplice to the crime, look at my hands!”

She showed her palms to the group. They were covered with dry blood.

“The fuck?” Gwenn screamed. “How come we never noticed that?”

_Because during the trial she was careful to always hide her palms from us._

“It happened when I arranged the bloodstains to look like a cross,” Typhaine said miserably. “I thought I could deceive you all, but that was just stupid. I was stupid to think I could trick you all. I tried to wash off the blood, but it wouldn’t come off, no matter how much I scrubbed it. I was… such an idiot.”

“You were!” Jordana chanted. “But not _entirely_ stupid, if saving Lucien was your goal all along. Because now you’ve given him a possible way out.”

“Whut?” Bob asked. “Whuzzat mean?”

“Simple. I don’t think Typhaine really is the one who drowned Lisa, but it’s not entirely _impossible_ , and we don’t have enough evidence to either prove or refute it. But remember the accomplice rule?”

“Oh, right,” Ryoji said meekly. “We can vote for the accomplice if we want to.”

“Exactly. Basically, we’ll never truly know who the culprit is, and for all we know they drowned Lisa together and are both guilty anyway – but that doesn’t matter, because we’ll be good if we vote for either of them!”

“But how do we choose?” Ferdinand asked, beginning to sweat. “This is… this is...”

He didn’t finish his sentence.

“Pointlessly cruel,” Magalie completed. “Basically we’re supposed to say which of our friend we’re sending to the grave?”

“But how could we do something like that?” Rebecca asked in a tiny voice. “I… even now, I don’t want either of them to die.”

“Please, vote for me,” Typhaine begged. “If you don’t I’ll kill again! I’ll kill all of you if you choose to execute Lucien!”

“Typhaine,” Lucien muttered, sounding horrified. “Why…? Why do you want to die so badly? Is it… my fault?”

“Shut up, asshole,” Bob snarled. “No matter what the small chick says, I know yer the one that did it. Ya were fine with havin’ us all killed if it could save yer _holy ass,_ and now yer acting all sad cuz yer girlfriend is tryin’ to sacrifice herself?”

He was visibly trembling with rage, his face was red with anger.

“I know who I’m votin’ for, tha’s for damn sure," he spat.

“Bob, no,” Ryoji said firmly. “We can’t do that, we can’t let our emotions interfere.”

“Watchu sayin’?” Bob asked, cooling off just a little. (It seemed he couldn’t get truly mad at Ryoji, no matter the circumstances). “Ya _know_ he did it, Aphrodite proved it, so why are ya defendin’ him now?”

“I’m not trying to defend him,” Ryoji corrected. “But I’m not a murderer either. If I had the choice, I would send him either to prison, or to a hospital, but… if this game forces us to choose, then there’s only one thing we can do.”

“That thing being?” Florian asked.

“Use a purely logical reason to cast our vote,” Ryoji replied. “Like… voting for the youngest of the two, for example. This way we won’t feel implicated.”

“But… that’s just wrong,” Magalie said. “I can’t just _not_ vote for Lucien at this point. No matter what Typhaine says, I know he did it.”

“But… you don’t really know, do you?” Ryoji asked, softly. “Unless he confesses, we’ll never truly know.”

“What a foolish boy you are, Ryoji,” Jordana said with a chuckle. “How could anyone bring themselves to vote for Lucien after what has happened today?”

“Well uh,” Gwenn said uneasily. “I might. Typhaine did promise to kill us, y’know.”

“Idiot,” Magalie snarled, slapping her desk. “She’s just throwing empty threats to scare us!”

“I agree with Ryoji,” Aphrodite suddenly said. “We shouldn’t let emotions interfere in the vote. We may feel fine now, but that’s the kind of things which could still torment us in ten years.”

She closed her eyes.

“I have… one last piece of evidence to present, in order for us to do that.”

She fished the pregnancy test from her pocket, and presented it to the group.

“Typhaine, this is yours correct?”

“Ah!” Typhaine squaked, hiding behind her cap. “Why did you have to show them that?”

“I’m sorry,” Aphrodite said. “I don’t like to expose your private life like that, but this is literally a matter of life and death.”

“But why are you showing that now?” Ferdinand asked. “Are we even sure it belongs to Typhaine?”

“I found it in Typhaine’s room,” Jordana said with a shrug.

“I share that room with Rebecca,” Typhaine countered weakly.

“Yes, and I’m a lesbian,” Rebecca replied. “Not gonna work.”

“This test doesn’t prove Typhaine is pregnant,” Aphrodite stated. “After all, it hasn’t been used yet. But the fact that she owns it proves there’s a possibility.”

“And?” Gwenn asked.

“I invoke the rule of numbers,” Aphrodite replies. “Whether or not Typhaine is pregnant is yet unclear, and should she _actually_ be pregnant, she may choose to have an abortion later, if she can. But there’s a possibility she’s carrying a child, and a possibility she’ll want to keep it.”

“So you cannot vote for her,” Lucien completed blankly.

“Pretty much,” Aphrodite said. “Because you’re one person, and she might be two.”

Her classmates took a moment to think.

“I think this is a valid argument,” Ryoji said. “I’ll be voting for Lucien.”

“Yeah, same,” Bob agreed. “It’s the fairest way.”

“Even if she doesn’t want to keep it,” Gwenn said, “she should at least get the chance.”

“I never intended to vote for Typhaine anyway,” Jordana said with a shrug. “Us murderers gotta stick together.”

“Jeez you are fucked up,” Gwenn commented.

“I think Typhaine deserves this chance,” Magalie said prudently.

“I like the rule of numbers,” Florian mumbles. “I does not feel like I am picking a side.”

Ferdinand said nothing, but voted for Lucien anyway. Typhaine was crying, and refused to vote.

“So is this it…?” Lucien asked, faintly. “Is this the end for me? Is there truly no other way out?”

“It’s over,” Aphrodite said. “You might as well confess at this point.”

“Who knew,” Lucien muttered, very quietly. “That I would go out so soon. As a sinner, as a traitor, and as a failed leader. It is almost a little funny.”

He let out a very quiet laugh. Aphrodite crossed her arms.

“Tell us the truth now. We deserve as much, don’t you think?”

Lucien laughed some more.

“Oh, why not. I killed Lisa, that is true, and it happened exactly as you claimed. The only thing I did not do was cutting her body to pieces with the saw. But that was my idea, and I am the one who gave Typhaine the code.”

“That’s so messed up,” Gwenn commented uneasily, wincing. “If I ever get a romantic partner, this is definitely _not_ how I’ll spend my time with them.”

“You certainly do not wish to,” Lucien said, giggling some more.

“Why Lisa?” Ryoji asked, his eyes beginning to water once more.

“She suddenly barged into my room that night,” Lucien explained. “It was the second time that happened in only one night. The first time, I sincerely thought Robert wanted to kill me. I was terrified. So when Lisa threatened to reveal my secret, I panicked. I grabbed the nearest object, chased her, and smacked her on the head. Typhaine witnessed everything.”

“So it wasn’t premeditated?” Magalie asked. “You just acted on instinct?”

“But why kill her?” Bob asked, sounding disgusted. “If ya were just scared, ya could’ve just talked things out with her.”

“I committed one of the greatest sins,” Lucien said, as if he hadn’t heard. “I submitted to the pleasure of carnal flesh. Lisa found out, she knew who I truly was. I knew that if she ever revealed my secret, it would be the end for me. My life, my reputation, it would all shatter to pieces. That is what I believed anyway.”

“You killed her to preserve your reputation?” Ferdinand shouted in disbelief. “You could not have been that selfish!”

“Oh, but I could,” Lucien said, laughing once more. “And that is not even the best part. Typhaine, you wish to tell them?”

Typhaine was still crying, and apparently didn’t want to talk.

“What is the best part?” Aphrodite asked, trying to remain neutral.

“The best part is, Lisa never knew about Typhaine’s pregnancy. She never knew about my sin – when she threatened to reveal my ‘secret’, she meant the mortification process.”

“The… excuse me, the what now?” Florian asked, sounding concerned.

“That sounds very scary,” Gwenn commented.

Suddenly Ferdinand and Rebecca looked very uncomfortable. Lucien laughed again.

“Oh, you wish to know about the mortification process?” He asked with a carnivorous glare. “Are you curious, perhaps?”

“What is it?” Aphrodite asked calmly.

“It’s a way to redeem our sins,” Rebecca explained. “For people who have made big mistakes, but who want to correct themselves.”

“Correct themselves _how_ exactly?” Florian asked.

“Through physical pain of course!” Jordana chanted.

“Indeed, Lucien admitted. “I gave them the whip, and watched them hit themselves.”

A little moment of silence welcomed his words.

“What?” Jordana asked, laughing. “Okay but like, I was joking.”

“Are you for real?” Magalie asked, scandalized. “This isn’t the twelfth century anymore, what the fuck?”

“So you have been abusing psychologically weak people, and advised them to wound their own bodies so they could cope with their traumas?” Aphrodite asked calmly. “And that’s why Lisa broke into your apartment at night.”

“You do not understand, any of you,” Lucien said with disdain. “Sinners need to be punished if they ever wish to move on. If you reward their misdeeds with caresses, sweets and gifts, how do you ever expect them to become better people?”

“Lucien,” Ryoji sobbed. “Did your parents beat you?”

Lucien remained quiet for a while. The question seemed to have caught him off guard.

“Yes,” he admitted. “So what?”

“That explains a few things,” Aphrodite sighed. “It’s too late now to correct your misguided conceptions, so let’s move on. I have another question for you. Did you benefit from the current motive?”

Aphrodite could almost hear everyone suddenly holding their breath. The truth about the killing game, about the war and the ghost town, Monoblade had promised to reveal everything. Would they finally be allowed to hear it? Would they finally know who was after them, and what their objective was?

“… yes,” Lucien said after a while. “I know the truth now.”

“But you’re not allowed to divulge it,” Monoblade warned.

“Or what, you’ll execute me?”

“Before you can say anything, yes.”

Lucien took a deep breath. He seemed resigned, defeated. But suddenly he spoke, very fast.

“The government is after us, they want to destroy the GTU, this killing game is being broadcast all over the-”

Before he could finish his sentence, the metal claw had dropped from the ceiling, wrapping around his neck, so brutally that Lucien fell on his knees and banged his head against his desk. He was bleeding, and looked a little stunned. Typhaine yelled in panic, but Lucien looked like he was trying to say something else.

“The war,” he shouted in a raspy voice. “The war has resumed, we’re all-”

The rest of his words were drowned as the claw dragged him out of sight. Typhaine ran after him, but another claw shot from the wall, and pinned her to the ground.

“Now you be a good girl and don’t do anything stupid,” Monoblade said, sounding extremely pleased and yet enraged at the same time. “After all, you’re a part of this too, you know?”

The claw raised her from the ground. She went completely limp.

“Wait!” Ryoji screamed. “Where are you taking her?”

“Oh, I’m simply going to give her the front seat on his execution, no big deal. Why, you want to come too, tubby?”

“Yes,” Ryoji replied, to everyone’s astonishment.

“Whut?” Bob yelled. “Ryo, no!”

“Why would you-” Ferdinand began.

Monoblade only laughed.

“Not the answer I expected, but okay! Come with us, buddy.”

A third claw shot from the ceiling, tying around Ryoji’s neck, but he had been prepared for it. He was lifted from the ground, almost gently: he and Typhaine were lead to a strange little window in the north wall, out of reach to the people on the ground. Next, the huge screen suddenly lit, revealing the ground of Lucien’s execution.

Monoblade laughed.

“I’ve been waiting for this,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “Now it’s finally time for my revenge.”


	34. Holy Execution

The execution took place outside, in a street scarred and deformed by the bombings. The cobbles were white, in the background stood the ruins of two tourist shops and a restaurant. A few crows could be heard in the distance. Because of the pollution, the sky looked an odd shade of brown. For a while, there was nothing to see but the flying dust. Then a character entered the frame: Lucien, who was wearing a strange white gown with a red scarf in place of a belt. He was carrying a huge wooden cross, a thick piece of tape served to cover his mouth. Monoblade was sitting comfortably on top of the cross. Lucien walked slowly, bare-footed, sweating from the effort and the heat.

Suddenly Typhaine entered the frame, soon followed by Ryoji. The girl ran toward Lucien, trying to help him carry his cross, but Ryoji restrained her before she could. The students could hear her shouting in protest, but Ryoji argued that it could be dangerous. Lucien shot Typhaine an icy glare, and she immediately stopped struggling.

“Monoblade?” Ryoji asked, teary-eyed. “What are we allowed to do?”

“Watch, or die with him,” Monoblade replied mercilessly. “Your role will come later on.”

Lucien sighed heavily, and resumed his walk. Typhaine told him to put the cross down, but he ignored her. He took three steps, then stopped suddenly, looking down. He realized that hundreds of tiny glass shards had been disseminated on the ground beneath his feet, cruelly wounding his skin with each step he took. Beginning to cry in pain, he took another step, and a third one, brutally damaging his flesh each time. Typhaine yelled when she noticed the blood, but Ryoji forced her to look away, sobbing.

When Lucien reached the end of the street, he found himself on what looked like a little grassy hill, with a little fountain. Another cross had already been planted there. Lucien dropped the one he had been carrying, and fell on his knees, panting. Typhaine managed to free herself from Ryoji’s grip, and ran to his side. She tried to talk to him, but he wasn’t responding. Despairing, she ran to the fountain, and rubbed some water on his cheeks.

“Get away,” Monoblade ordered.

Once again, Ryoji was the one who had to take Typhaine away, before Monoblade could find an excuse to kill her too.

“You,” he said, pointing to Ryoji. “Undress him.”

Ryoji gulped, and nodded.

 _He knows that it’s going to be worse if he refuses to play along,_ Aphrodite understood.

Ryoji kneeled next to Lucien, whispering some words of comfort that the microphone didn’t pick up. He carefully untied Lucien’s belt-scarf, then took off his gown, and folded it carefully. The young man wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

The rest happened as in a dream. Lucien was picked up from the ground by a metal claw, almost gently, then tied to the cross with a thick rope.

“And now comes my favorite part,” Monoblade said, laughing. “How does it feel to be at my mercy, priest boy? Oh wait, you can’t say anything.”

Lucien glared at Monoblade furiously, and performed the only rebellious act he could still perform: he peed on the robot. Monoblade roared in fury.

“You will pay for that! Typhaine, nail his hands to the wood.”

“WHAT?” Ryoji shouted in horror.

“I won’t,” Typhaine said. “Kill me if you have to, I’ll never surrender to your will.”

“Oh, if you ask me so kindly-” Monoblade began, almost purring in delight.

“No, NO!” Ryoji yelled in panic. “I’ll do it, I’ll do it, please don’t kill Typhaine!”

Monoblade seemed to ponder for a second.

“Okay, why not. Here, take the hammer.”

Ryoji grabbed the hammer and nails without thinking. Ironically, he was the only person who was tall enough to reach Lucien’s arms anyway. He hit the nail without looking at what he was doing, often hurting his own fingers in the process, and trying to block out Lucien’s painful screams. More than once, Typhaine tried to stop him, but he continued regardless. Monoblade was only satisfied once Ryoji had nailed both of his hands and feet. After that, Ryoji walked away from the cross, looking as pale as a sheet; he fell on his knees and threw up. His entire body was trembling – it was a miracle he hadn’t fainted yet. Monoblade turned to look at Typhaine.

“Now, will you dare to rebel against me?” He asked arrogantly. “Go ahead, if you want to die that badly. Ryoji won’t stop you this time, will he?”

Lucien protested loudly, but he could only make meaningless noises. Typhaine eyed Monoblade with a murderous glare.

 _Don’t,_ Aphrodite mentally begged. _Don’t do it Typhaine, control yourself, we don’t want you to die too._

Typhaine hesitated for a second, and that’s when she noticed. The helicopter was flying in their direction, a mere 200 meters above the ground, and it was ready to fire. In that last instant, her instincts were screaming at her to jump on the cross and to shield Lucien with her body.

She ignored those instincts, and ran to Ryoji’s side. She was a very short person, and not particularly muscular, trying to lift a fat man who probably weighed at least twice her own weight. She did it. Having no idea how, she made Ryoji’s body move, and they fell down the slope, as the helicopter unloaded a missile above Lucien’s head. The explosion was strong enough to lift her off the ground before her feet could even touch the cobbles. She was projected several meters away from the impact point. She fell on her back, raising a cloud of dust, beyond the glass shards. For a moment, all she could see were blurry gray shapes. Then she closed her eyes, and didn’t open them again.

In the courtroom, the screen shut off, and Monoblade plopped back on his throne.

“So how did you like it?” He asked cheerfully. “I think it was pretty smart to have him crucified, but then later burnt in an explosion. There must be little pieces of him _everywhere_ by now! Do you think the crows will try to eat his remains?”

No one had the energy to respond. Somewhere at the back of her mind, Aphrodite wondered if Typhaine and Ryoji were okay. She desperately needed to sleep, to sleep for a whole week or a maybe a month, only to wake up once everything was over.

Of course, that would never happen. But perhaps she could manage ten minutes if she lied down on the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lucien's death portrait: https://imgur.com/a/TR1Gshk


	35. Aftermath

The result of Lucien’s execution was especially hurtful to everyone. Of course, it wasn’t the first time they had to see one of their friends die in a horrible way. Magalie could never forget Sébastien’s desperate cry for help as the arrows pierced his body, she could still recall Alexander’s blistered face from the insects’ attack, and the look of desperate love in Suzie’s eyes as she held the fake baby in her arms. But it was the first time the execution required a participation from the students, and it was the first time it nearly killed more than one person. Magalie was putting on a brave face, but her legs were shaking. She still hadn’t moved from her desk, as if the class trial hadn’t stopped.

She forced herself to walk away, and walked toward Ferdinand who was sitting on the floor, resting his back against the wall. He wasn’t crying, but he looked very distant.

“What happened?” He asked quietly. “The execution, how did it go? I could not see very well.”

“Ryoji saved Typhaine’s life,” Magalie explained. “And then she saved his life in return. The helicopter took them both, but they should be back soon. As for Lucien, it’s over for him, but you knew that already.”

“So even the Lord has deserted us,” Ferdinand replied, gazing at the ceiling. “No… he was never with us to begin with. Why else would he take away my sight when I so badly wanted to be a knight? Why else would he torture us emotionally be killing our friends one by one?”

“Ferd...”

“I need to be alone for a bit, if you do not mind,” he said, beginning to cry.

Magalie nodded, and took a few steps toward the elevator. No one had left the courtroom yet, except for Jordana and Bob. Gwenn was apparently lost in thoughts, Rebecca was crying, Aphrodite was resting on the floor. Florian… was apparently talking to himself, very fast and very quietly.

Magalie boarded the elevator, and let it carry her to the second floor. After that, she didn’t know. Perhaps there was a new room to explore on the second floor, but she didn’t want to go there. Instead she walked into the parking lot. Jordana was already there, bathing in the sunlight. She was singing.

_This was a triumph_

_I’m making a note here, huge success_

_It’s hard to overstate my satisfaction…_

Magalie recognized the song, it was from a videogame she had played some years ago. If she recalled, the title was…

 _“_ _Still Alive?_ That’s appropriate.”

“Is it not?” Jordana replied with a charming smile. “I think it’s worth appreciating.”

She looked as fresh and happy as she always did, but Magalie knew it was mostly an act. Still, it was rather impressing how her composure almost never cracked.

“Are you happy?” Magalie asked neutrally. “Now that your killing intents have been revealed, you’ll be cast aside from the group once again.”

“It was inevitable. Such is the way of the killing game.”

“It was absolutely _not_ inevitable. You could work with us, instead of considering us your enemies.”

“Indeed, I could. But look at what happened today,” Jordana said, spreading her arms. “Look at the victims. Lisa, the tragic hero who fought so hard for everyone’s safety. And her murderer? Lucien, who was so stressed out by the burden of looking after everyone that he let it get to his head and committed the worst of sins just to protect his reputation. They were working with the group, as you say, and not against it. And yet they died. I should even add: they were easy victims, bound to die sooner or later. Do you understand?”

Magalie shook her head.

“You can’t just say that and make it seem like a golden rule. The statistics are _meaningless_ with such a tiny sample. Our situation doesn’t say anything about how to survive a killing game. You’d need references from hundreds of other killing games to determine the best approach to survival. If there even is one.”

“In the meantime, I’m alive and they’re dead.”

“But you’re also alone.”

“Am I? You’re right here, aren’t you?”

“True, and I don’t know why. I think I’m trying to help you, but I’m doing a terrible job at it.”

“Don’t beat yourself too hard, I’m a special case.”

“That you are,” Magalie admitted with a heartless chuckle. “I feel like I’ll never understand you.”

“Well,” Jordana said with a mysterious smile, “I could give you a hint.”

“Oh? What kind of hint?”

“Think, my dear historian friend. What could have possibly happened in the past, for me to turn out this way? To make me so strange, unpredictable, and obsessed with survival to the point of altogether losing sight of ethics?”

Magalie pondered for a moment.

“That’s an interesting question actually. Have you been in a precarious situation before?”

“You could say that. What do you have in mind?”

“Living in the street, having to steal to survive, not being able to rely on the others, that kind of thing.”

Jordana chuckled.

“Such a bourgeois point of view, that’s really funny.”

“Hey, don’t make fun of me!” Magalie snarled.

“Calm down tiger. Though it was a pretty intelligent answer, it’s actually wrong. I’ve never been poor, thankfully.”

“Okay, what was it then?” Magalie asked, losing patience.

“If I tell you: ‘this isn’t my first killing game’, how will you react?”

Magalie gave her a blank stare.

“What?” She asked quietly.

“When I was a child, I participated in another killing game,” Jordana explained. “It was very different from the one we’re currently in, though. There was far less organization, the rules were less strict, and it wasn’t broadcast anywhere. It was also vote-based, not murder-based.”

“Slow down, this is a lot to take in,” Magalie said. “Like… what the hell. Why did you never tell us before?”

“I didn’t feel like it.”

“Oh, _of course_ you didn’t. Typical Jordana answer, thank you very much.”

“To be fair, ‘I participated in a killing game’ isn’t your typical ice breaker when meeting new people.”

Magalie rolled her eyes.

“But we’ve been trying to figure out why on earth we’ve been put into a killing game, we’ve had countless discussions on the topic. Had we known you could provide your testimony on a historical example of a different killing game, this could have been very useful data for us to reach a better understanding of the subject!”

Jordana laughed.

“What’s so funny?” Magalie asked angrily.

“You really speak like a historian, don’t you?”

“Well duh. I’m a historian.”

“And I was in jail most of the time. It might be crucial information, but I didn’t get that many occasions to mention it.”

Magalie crossed her arms and kicked the dirt, but she had to admit Jordana was right. Damn, that was annoying.

“I shouldn’t be getting angry like that,” she said to herself. “Not after...”

She trailed off.

“I’ll go to my room,” she suddenly said. “See you some other time.”

“In jail?”

“Probably.”

They both waved, and Jordana resumed her singing. Her voice was as beautiful as ever. Magalie strongly regretted not sticking around to listen to her for a bit.

_So that’s why she’s so paranoid. She’s been in another killing game… and survived. I can’t even imagine how she must feel._

Magalie felt a little sad, maybe a little disgusted too. But at least she was one step closer to understand Jordana. Perhaps if they talked more, she could even rally her to their side.

**

Gwenn spent a while in the trial room even after the trial had ended. After a particularly violent panic attack (which Ferdinand did his best to ease), they decided to leave. They boarded the elevator at the same time as Florian.

“You want to go to the garden?”

“I do,” Florian said neutrally.

He looked rather shaken by the trial – they had all been. Gwenn didn’t want to think about it again, because if they did they’d think about Lisa’s rotting corpse in the sewers, Typhaine’s suicidal tendencies, the glass shards which Lucien had been forced to step on, Ryoji nailing his hands to the wood… oh no, they were thinking about it again.

“Say, how did you become the ultimate florist anyway?” Gwenn heard themselves blurting out.

Any conversation topic would do, as long as it kept their mind away from the horrors of the trial.

“Why do you ask?” Florian said tiredly. “Do not pretend to suddenly like me. You never did, and never will.”

The cold sentence brought a chill to Gwenn’s spine.

_Okay, that’s what I get for trying to socialize. Very smooth Gwenn, very smooth._

“Dude, don’t be like that! You’ve been kind of a prick for a while, but I don’t _hate_ you. After all we’ve been through, do we really have to remain enemies?”

The doors opened. Florian gazed at Gwenn, he wore a curious expression on his face, as if he didn’t know if he should be scornful or hopeful.

“I-”

“Nah, don’t bother,” Gwenn sighed. “I know you’re about to say something condescending, and I don’t need to hear it.”

They both still went to the garden together. Like it or not, that was the only place where they could feel relaxed. The bamboo tree was growing nicely, and the flower bushes were getting thick.

 _Florian’s_ _worked wonders with this tiny square of dirt,_ Gwenn thought as they admired the garden. _He really deserves his title, that one._

They crouched near a baby tree, inspecting its leaves from up close. It was reasonably healthy, judging from the situation. Perhaps Gwenn would have to get rid of the weeds if they wanted to see it grow big. This one would never bear fruits, but it would look gorgeous if it ever had a chance to grow big.

“My family was always horrible,” Florian said, out of nowhere. “Greedy, dirty and obsessed with profit. I’ve always _hated_ them. Even now, even here, I still do. We lived in a big mansion, which I was rarely allowed to leave: but we also had a large garden, and I spent most of my time in there because it’s the only place I could be alone. I needed something to keep busy with, so I asked the gardeners to teach me how to take care of the plants. My dad hated it, of course. He said that me taking care of flowers made me effeminate and poor. And since I loved to contradict him, I worked really hard to become the best gardener in history.”

“What uh… are you doing?” Gwenn asked uncertainly.

“I am answering your question from earlier.”

“Oh, uh… I see. Thank you. Wait, huh? _That’s_ how you became the ultimate florist? Out of _spite?”_

“You could say that, I guess,” Florian replied, sounding mildly embarrassed. “Probably not the story you expected to hear.”

“I expected anything, and I’m still shocked!” Gwenn said in astonishment.

“Let us just stop talking about me,” Florian replied firmly. “It makes me uncomfortable. How did _you_ become the ultimate smoothie maker?”

Gwenn suddenly grew a little paler, and began to sweat.

_You knew this question would come up eventually._ _By all means, it should have happened sooner. Come on, get a grip._ _You prepared the perfect answer_ _for this occasion_ _. Go on, just recite your speech, and it should be fine._

“I-”

Gwenn felt the words dying in their throat.

_I can’t lie to him. After all this, it wouldn’t make sense._

“I’m not the ultimate smoothie maker,” Gwenn admitted shamefully, looking at their feet. “I’m not anything. I don’t have an ultimate talent. Being a student in the GTU was always my dream, so my family used their money to have me admitted in the school anyway.”

They began to cry, heavy tears rolling down their cheeks and wetting the earth and leaves.

“I’m such an idiot,” Gwenn sobbed. “I lied to everyone, and for what? For this horrible killing game? I’m just a joke.”

Florian had never looked so shocked before. He was sitting stupidly with his mouth open, staring at Gwenn like they were some kind of alien. He looked… disgusted? Offended? Angry? Then it seemed like something hit him, like a revelation, and he chuckled.Quickly putting a hand to cover his mouth, he looked away in shame – but the laugh came back. He simply couldn’t stop himself: he broke into an uncontrollable fit of giggles. He eventually fell on his back, laughing madly and having to place both hands on his belly. Gwenn felt both hurt and concerned.

“What’s so funny? Please stop.”

“I can’t,” Florian replied between two fits of giggles. “Oh my god hahahaha!”

He was crying and panting, rolling in the dirt and tapping his thighs repeatedly. Gwenn began to chuckle from the mere sight, and soon they too began to laugh a little bit more frankly, though they didn’t know why. It lasted for a while.

“Aaaah,” Florian said after five minutes of reckless laughing. “I’m losing it. I’m losing my mind!”

“It’s okay,” Gwenn chuckled. “It happened to me once before. It’s the killing game, we got so few opportunities to laugh, sometimes our brains go mad at the stupidest things.”

Florian forced himself to breathe, trying to remove the dust from his white jacket.

“Curses! I have dirtied my grandfather’s waistcoat.”

“We all have our problems I guess.”

Florian froze.

“Oh, right. I suppose I should apologize.”

He got up, and bowed.

“Please forgive me. That was rude and uncalled for.”

Gwenn blinked.

“Oh, okay. Thanks then, I accept your apology.”

“Also you might not be an ultimate, but your smoothies are still fairly decent,” Florian said, looking away. “I rarely had the opportunity to drink any of them, but I would certainly not mind repeating the experience.”

“Right now?” Gwenn asked.

“Whenever. It would give us something to do.”

Gwenn smiled.

“Let’s go then!” They said as they got up. “You know, Flo, I like you much more like that. It’s good that we talked.”

“It was so simple,” Florian muttered to himself. “Socializing is so simple, why has it always seemed so hard?”

Gwenn patted him on the back.

“I see that you too are an expert at making mountains out of silly little problems?”

“Ultimate level even,” Florian mumbled in frustration. “Ultimate idiot, that’s what I am.”

“Wow, being an ultimate. Can’t relate.”

And they both laughed again, as they walked toward the kitchen.

**

When Typhaine woke up, it was already dark. She was in a large hospital room, resting on a bed. Her memory felt a little _bloated_ , as if too many important things had happened in a short period of time. Part of her wanted to sort her memories, but part of her wanted to _not_ do that because she’d inevitably end up thinking about Lucien and she wasn’t ready for that yet.

Typhaine went out of bed, and put her feet on the cold floor. She was wearing a tight prison-like uniform, for reasons which were still unknown, but no shoes. They had taken her cap too, which made her feel oddly naked. The bed was very tall, making her feel tiny in comparison. There was another bed in the room: she rushed toward it and began to climb it, careless of waking up its resident.

It was Ryoji, and he looked absolutely terrible. He was unconscious, and all she could see was his face, for the rest of his body was hidden by the sheets. He was covered in bandages, the left half of his face was swollen and blue. He had probably hit it when he fell onto the cobbles after the explosion. Typhaine had many bandages too, and could faintly feel the wounds underneath. She suddenly realized how lucky she was: after what had happened to her, it was a wonder she could even walk.

Besides Ryoji, there was no one else in the room. Typhaine told him to wake up, but didn’t even hear her own voice. Curious. It was like there was a miniature storm in her ears, preventing her from hearing anything.

She jumped down from his bed, and ran toward the door. It led to a hallway, equally empty. She kept running, opening the door at the very end of the hallway, and found herself in some kind of waiting room.

_So far this looks a lot like a_ _normal_ _hospital. I sorta expected it to be a lot weirder._

There still wasn’t anyone, so she kept running, and opened more rooms until she found a staircase. She went down carefully, because by this point her legs were hurting a little. They felt a little stiff, going down the stairs wasn’t as easy as it usually was. Down the staircase was (unsurprisingly) another door. She opened it, and found herself in some sort of science lab. There were definitely some people in this room: a bunch of men wearing lab coats. They didn’t pay attention to her, because they were all gathered around a table at the other side of the room, working on something. Typhaine didn’t pay any attention to them either: she was much more intrigued by what she saw on the east wall.

There were some huge posters on the wall, with photos of her dead classmates. Sébastien was the first one: Typhaine had almost forgotten about his ugly bowl cut – paradoxically, it made her feel sad that he was dead, because she couldn’t make fun of him anymore. He was smiling on the picture, it had probably be taken before the killing game started. Underneath the picture, there was a lot of text: coming closer, Typhaine read some of it, and realized that it was a lot of information about Sébastien’s life personal life. Why this would be here, she had no clue: but the worst part was the stamp above Sébastien’s face on the poster.

“Failure”.

It sent a very cold shiver down Typhaine’s spine. It was so heartless, so simple and unforgiving that it made her feel sick. The same word was stamped on each of the posters: the second one showed Alexander, smiling proudly and raising a thumb up. He looked a little younger than the Alexander she knew, perhaps a little more innocent too. Still as beautiful as ever, obviously. Typhaine almost threw up when she recalled how viciously his face had been deformed, and forced herself to look at the next picture.

Bertrand, the polite drug addict. He looked a little nervous on the picture.

 _He had the same pink hair dye as me_ , Typhaine realized as she gazed at the picture.

The Bertrand she remembered was always clean, polite and composed. This one looked a little dirty, tired and maybe even sick – but it was undoubtedly him. And next came Suzie, looking as serious as ever. Her eyes were fixed directly on the objective, as if she somehow hoped to pierce it with the sheer power of her gaze. Jordana’s picture came next, she was as charming as ever, smiling and making twin peace signs with her hands. Her makeup was naturally flawless, she was wearing a red dress from what Typhaine could tell.

Then she moved on to the last poster. There was… it was… yes, it was…

It was him.

Typhaine couldn’t remember what happened after that. The doctors found her fifteen minutes later, having ripped Lucien’s picture from the wall, sobbing as she hugged it. They said a lot of things to her, but the storm in her ears prevented her from hearing anything. They carried her back to her room, put her to bed, and assigned someone to watch the room so she didn’t escape again.

Typhaine was still crying uncontrollably even an hour later: but even in the deep state of sorrow that she was in, a tiny part of her brain was trying to solve the riddle. Mostly, one detail about the set of pictures was bothering her greatly.

 _Why_ _was_ _Roberta’s picture_ _missing from the_ _exhibit_ _?_


	36. Lemon cake, War and Dogs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sheesh, that one was tough to write. I'm still not entirely satisfied with it, but I guess it'll do for now. I just hope you guys enjoy it! Don't hesitate to leave a comment if you see a way I could improve those daily life chapters, or if you have anything to say, I'm always glad to read them.

The next day was very quiet. Monoblade wasn’t seen by anyone, and wouldn’t answer any calls. No new rooms were opened in the facility, no new murder motive was submitted, and no meeting was planned among the students. The survivors remained in their rooms, or roamed the hallways aimlessly. Bob was feeling the worst of all people: he could only guess how much Ryoji was suffering, but couldn’t help him in any way, and couldn’t even talk to him. He had sent him countless texts from his monopad, but none had been answered. Having to cope with that at the same time as Lisa’s death almost destroyed him.

It made sense, in a way, that this quiet atmosphere would fall on the campus. Everyone needed some time to mourn, to accept the reality of the previous trial. But it couldn’t last forever – Aphrodite wouldn’t allow it. So she got up very early on the next day, and opened everyone’s door, politely requesting that they meet her at the restaurant lounge promptly. She then left to make breakfast for everyone: among her classmates, she knew that many had barely eaten anything on the previous day. Therefore, she chose to bake a large lemon cake, with a lot of cream on the top – perhaps it would cheer them up a little. To her surprise, everyone came; minus Ryoji and Typhaine who were still at the hospital, that made eight people.

“Why did you have us come here?” Gwenn complained. “I wanted to sleep more.”

“Multiple reasons,” Aphrodite replied. “Firstly because it’s unhealthy to skip breakfast. Secondly because no matter how bad we feel, we must discuss Lucien’s last words, among other things. They’re too troubling to be ignored. And thirdly, I was beginning to miss you all.”

“Even me?” Jordana asked.

“No, not you. But I invited you anyway.”

“These all sound like valid reasons!” Ferdinand shouted. “I approve of this meeting wholeheartedly!”

He offered to cut the cake, but Magalie prudently took the knife from him (“You could hurt yourself!”) and served everyone a generous portion. The cake was deliciously creamy and soft. A little too heavy perhaps, but no one seemed to mind. It was a good way to start the day.

“So weird to not see Lisa around,” Gwenn commented, petting the cat as they ate. “I still can’t believe she’s gone.”

“Me neither,” Rebecca said sadly. “I’m going to miss Lucien too. I know what he did was unforgivable, but even so...”

“To think there used to be so many of us,” Magalie said, folding her arms. “What a waste.”

“That’s killing games for you,” Jordana said with a shrug. “You meet all these wonderful people, and then you have to watch them die one by one.”

Aphrodite raised an eyebrow curiously, but didn’t react to the comment.

“Before we begin to discuss the important things, I’d like you guys to tell me how we’re going to live during the next few days.”

“As in?” Gwenn asked.

“We’ve had two leaders in a row, now both dead. Before they died we had a timetable, objectives to meet, orders to follow, a community project, ambitions, etc. Should we throw that out of the window and just live our lives carelessly? Should we yet elect another leader, and see what they suggest? Should we have a community project, but completely different from the previous one? Should we lock Jordana in a room yet again, or should we let her be free?”

“I can’t answer all these questions,” Magalie said, “but I believe locking Jordana in a room once again would be a mistake. Still, that doesn’t mean we should leave her completely unsupervised either.”

“Basically you want to put her on a leash,” Florian said, probably very proud of his metaphor.

“Kinky,” Jordana commented.

Magalie rolled her eyes.

“If you have a better idea...”

“Actually, it could work,” Rebecca said. “And it’d be more respectful than locking her up in a cell.”

“I agree!” Ferdinand said as he clapped his hands together.

“I wouldn’t mind,” Jordana said. “But I think it’s kinda mean to the person in charge of guarding me.”

“You don’t say,” Gwenn snorted. “It’s definitely not going to be me.”

“No, better not,” Jordana agreed. “Besides, I could totally beat you in a fight, so it would be kinda useless to have you as a guard.”

“Hey!” Gwenn complained. “What does _that_ mean?”

“It means you’re weak,” Jordana replied mercilessly.

“Now now children, please focus,” Magalie said. “Anyway, I think I know who the guard should be.”

“Who do you have in mind?” Aphrodite asked.

“Ferdinand. He’s fairly tall and pretty strong, and we all know we can trust him.”

Ferdinand blushed a little, but he got up from his chair and punched his own chest proudly.

“I gladly accept the mission!” He shouted. “I shall not disappoint you!”

“But would his sight not pose a problem?” Florian asked doubtfully. “Besides, I do not wish to sound rude, but Ferdinand is not the brightest among us. Jordana could fool him quite easily, no?”

“How blunt!” Jordana said. “I don’t know who you’re insulting the most, Ferdinand or I.”

“I feel so ashamed,” Ferdinand wailed. “To be trusted so little!”

“N-no, that’s not what I meant,” Florian said, eyes wide in panic. “Ah, dammit, why do I always fuck up like this?”

“It’s okay Flo,” Magalie said with a laugh. “It’s no crime to speak the truth.”

“Well ouch,” Ferdinand commented.

“Which is why I’ll be accompanying Ferdinand on his task,” Magalie continued, ignoring him. “Besides, I wanted to hang out with him and Jordana more often. You could say it’s all going according to plan.”

“You wanted to hang out with _Jordana?”_ Gwenn asked incredulously.

“I’m not a _coward_ , Gwenn,” Magalie snapped.

“Brutal,” Rebecca said with a nervous chuckle. “Everyone’s getting roasted today.”

“At least we managed to get settled on something,” Aphrodite said. “Still, there are other points to discuss.”

“Shouldn’t we wait until Typhaine and Ryoji come back?” Magalie asked.

“We could, but we don’t know how long that will take.”

“All right,” Florian began, “so the question is how we proceed from now on. I doubt electing yet another leader would be a good idea.”

“No, not really,” Rebecca agreed. “They’d just end up dying again.”

“What about the shack?” Gwenn asked. “Do we continue working on that?”

No one seemed particularly enthusiastic.

“It wasn’t Lucien’s worst idea,” Magalie admitted, “but knowing what he did… I’d just feel sour.”

“There was also the question of the classes,” Florian reminded them. “Should we keep those running?”

“I’m in favor,” Aphrodite said. “They’ve always been entertaining, and I’m always curious to learn new things.”

“Also it’s like we’re flipping the kidnappers off,” Rebecca snorted. “They wanted to ruin our school life, but we’re having it anyway.”

“Huh, never thought about it that way,” Magalie said, stroking her chin thoughtfully. “But I’m all about middle-fingering.”

“Rebellion is a noble purpose!” Ferdinand agreed.

“Does that mean I can participate now?” Jordana asked curiously.

“Sure you can,” Aphrodite replied. “You could even try to teach us to sing. Or anything you like, we’re not picky.”

Jordana seemed rather fascinated by the concept. Gwenn didn’t seem very happy about the idea of taking a Jordana class – most of the others were curious at best.

“So we’ll be having classes, that’s a thing,” Aphrodite summarized. “I guess we’ll also be taking our meals together, and there’s the question of cleaning, which we’ve neglected a little too much lately.”

“Julie’s gonna rise from her grave and punish us!” Gwenn shouted dramatically.

“I think we might not need an actual leader, but a group of people in charge of coordinating things wouldn’t hurt. So we’d know who’s scheduled to make the food, who’s scheduled to clean a room or another, who sleeps where, among other things.”

“Would you do it?” Rebecca asked.

“I suppose, but I wouldn’t want to do it alone.”

“I could help,” Florian suggested, to everyone’s astonishment. “I want to be useful to something.”

“If no one has any objections, it’s settled.”

There were none. A moment of silence came up next, as everyone finished their food. They knew what they were supposed to speak about next, but they waited for Aphrodite to bring up the topic. She cast a worried glance at Bob, who hadn’t said anything since the beginning of the meeting, before speaking.

“So. Lucien’s last words. What do we recall?”

“The killing game is being broadcast,” Magalie said quickly. “Whatever that means.”

“The government is after us,” Florian completed.

“And they seek to destroy the Grand Talent University!” Ferdinand shouted, clenching his fists.

“Wow, you guys remembered all that?” Gwenn said weakly. “I was too shocked to remember properly.”

“There’s the issue with the war, too,” Jordana added. “Which is _mildly_ concerning.”

“All right, let’s sort these one by ones,” Aphrodite said. “First, broadcast. Does someone remember the exact formulation Lucien used?”

“Why is that relevant?” Gwenn asked.

“He didn’t have time to tell us much, but the specific wording could give us a clue. I remember him speaking about a broadcast, but...”

“Ah, I know,” Florian cut in. “He said ‘is being broadcast all over the...’ before he was interrupted.”

“That’s a super important clue!” Rebecca shouted in shock. “Thanks Flo!”

“Uh, welcome, you, uh, are,” he said, staring at the table awkwardly.

“Broadcast all over the… world?” Magalie suggested. “All over the country? All over the...”

“But how is it being broadcast though?” Gwenn pondered. “Is this like… a live feed from the security cameras? And who’d even want to watch that?”

“I’m confident the cameras are involved,” Aphrodite said. “But I doubt it’s a live feed. I think the footage would be edited. As for who would watch something like this, it’s quite puzzling.”

“Lisa used to say a lot that this killing game was some kind of scientific experiment,” Ferdinand recalled. “So mayhaps this ‘broadcast’ Lucien spoke of, it refers to the videos being sent to scientists for analysis?”

“Or maybe it’s for entertainment value!” Jordana chimed in. “Think about it: why would they need a mascot like Monoblade if the project was purely scientific? Why would they need to be so theatrical about the executions?”

“I agree, that makes sense,” Aphrodite mumbled, frowning.

“Seriously?” Gwenn said, scandalized. “We’re being forced to kill each other for _entertainment?_ Like some kind of TV show? That’s ridiculous!”

“It hardly makes any sense to me,” Ferdinand admitted. “People have a good heart, deep down. They would not support a killing game like this, no one would watch it!”

“Yeah, even if the government supports the killing game, for… whatever reason, people wouldn’t necessarily enjoy it,” Magalie agreed. “It’d be a total flop.”

“Are you sure?” Florian asked. “People can be pretty disgusting individuals. I wouldn’t be surprised if this killing game made a lot of money.”

Aphrodite listened to everyone’s opinions carefully. The problem was, this was a pretty big question, which would probably interest philosophers, sociologists, or psychologists – but none of them were specialists in that field. Still, it looked like Jordana had more to say.

“Jordana? You look pensive.”

“I was just wondering… maybe this killing game is being broadcast, sure. But who’s to say it’s not _edited?”_

“I already said something of the sort, yes. Unedited it would probably be very dull. Where are you getting at?”

“Well, it might be edited enough to make it look like _fiction.”_

A cold and worried silence welcomed her thoughts.

“No...” Gwenn said quietly. “No way. That’s...”

“Horrible if it’s true, I know, but it would explain a few things. How it could be broadcast and make money.”

“But we’re celebrities,” Aphrodite argued. “People know who we are.”

“Even so,” Jordana replied. “You can make fiction based off real people, right?”

“It seems unlikely to me,” Magalie admitted. “The truth is, we still don’t have enough information to understand our kidnappers’ goal.”

Rebecca yawned.

“Sorry guys, this is making my head spin. You mind if we talk about this again later? Maybe around dinner time?”

“Sure, we could all use a break,” Aphrodite admitted.

Everyone took off in their own direction. Aphrodite remained for a little while. She needed to have a word with Bob.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hm?”

He looked a little lost. His hair was messy and it looked like he was in great need of a shower. He hadn’t even eaten his cake slice.

“I’m worried about you,” Aphrodite explained. “Do you need to talk for a bit?”

“I dunno,” Bob replied, staring off into space. “I can’t get that damn execution outta my head.”

“Because of what happened to Ryoji?”

“Yeah. You gotta understand… he’s a really sensitive dude. What Monoblade made him do with the hammer and the nails… it coulda broken him.”

“It was an especially cruel torture, anyone would have been deeply shaken.”

“Yeah, but Ryo… he’s a special case, y’know? He feels deeply for everywun. He told me he has _sympathy_. I thought it meant bein’ nice, but it actually means that he feels other people’s emotions, like, sum’times bedder ‘n themselves even.”

“And he despises hurting anyone too,” Aphrodite added thoughtfully.

“Yeah. He don’t care that Lucien was a disgusting murderer… he prolly had already forgiven him.”

Bob rarely ever showed any emotions besides anger, but he was clearly at the verge of tears.

“It’s so fuckin’ unfair,” he said, wiping his eyes in frustration. “I hate Typhaine so much now, why couldn’t she fuckin’ do it herself? It’s because of her that Ryo had to go through all this. Couldn’t she just have owned her shit?”

“She saved his life,” Aphrodite said quietly. “Without her, Ryoji could have died in the explosion.”

Bob gave her a blank stare.

“Yeah. ‘s true, yer right. But I can’t just _not_ hate her now. And I hate meself for it.”

“You’re sad and upset,” Aphrodite stated calmly, “which is completely normal after all you’ve been through. You obviously have feelings for Ryoji, and you’re very worried for him, because he’s been physically and mentally injured. You hate yourself for not being able to help him better, and so you deflect the blame on Typhaine, who’s the easiest target for this kind of thing. Am I wrong?”

Bob didn’t say anything for a little while. He looked hurt, but he didn’t exactly seem to disagree.

“Maybe. Dunno, emotions are weird.”

“Ryoji will be back soon,” Typhaine promised. “Whatever hospital he’s been taken to, they were able to perform tongue surgery, and almost flawlessly too. Whatever physical wounds he may have sustained, they probably have the means to treat it. As for his mental pain, well… that’s when you come in, isn’t it? Whenever he comes back, he’ll need someone to support him. If you feel strong enough-”

“Of course I’m fuckin’ strong enough!”

“Okay,” Aphrodite said, a little perturbed by the sudden outburst. “Well, then you have nothing to worry about, do you?”

Bob seemed a little puzzled for a moment.

“No…?”

“No, you don’t. You just have to be patient.”

She patted him on the shoulder.

“You’ve been a good friend to him,” she said with a smile. “You can be proud of yourself, Bob.”

Bob looked at his feet a little.

“Thanks,” he mumbled. “Sorry about ventin’ like that, it wasn’t very manly of me.”

“So concealing your emotions is manly?” Aphrodite asked curiously. “That’s not very healthy.”

“Hm. I’m gonna go sum’where. Seeya around.”

She let him leave. It seemed she had hurt his manly pride a little, but it had probably been worth it.

**

“So what is it you merry gang do in your free time?” Jordana asked cheerfully. “I’m soooo curious!”

She was in one of the hospital rooms with Ferdinand and Magalie. While she stood in the middle of the room, Magalie worked at the desk, and Ferdinand sat on one of the beds.

“Merry gang?” Ferdinand echoed curiously. “Are we a merry gang?”

“I need to work on my thesis actually,” Magalie said dryly. “So if the children could keep quiet, that would be nice.”

“Okay, what about you then, Ferd?” Jordana asked, ignoring Magalie’s request. “What do you plan to make of your morning?”

“I am on the path to victory and justice!” Ferdinand shouted proudly.

“Okay but what does that mean?”

“Glad you ask! I intend to learn how to fight, so I can one day become a real knight. My condition makes it more difficult, but I do not intend to give up on my dream so easily! I will earn my true title, and so until then, every day is a training day!”

“Oh, sweet,” Jordana said. “Can I participate?”

“Well… you may partake in my exercise, yes. But I will not ask you to be my fencing partner, because I could never hurt a woman!”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Jordana said dismissively with a little hand gesture. “I’m not really a woman after all, I’m more like a snake. You know, tempting people to sin and everything?”

She smiled at him, closing her eyes cutely. Ferdinand looked taken aback. ‘Don’t worry, I’m actually a snake’ was probably not the answer he had been expecting.

“Even so, would it not be… unchivalrous of me too-”

“I’ll give you such a tough time, you won’t even have the time to _think_ about chivalry!” Jordana boasted before he could finish this sentence. “Well, ultimate not-knight? Will you back down from my challenge?”

“I would NEVEEEEEER!” Ferdinand yelled at the top of his lungs.

Magalie dropped her head onto the desk, groaning in frustration.

“Oops,” Ferdinand said, feeling deeply ashamed. “I suppose we should go.”

They left the room together and walked toward the parking lot (because Ferdinand liked to feed from “the sun’s blazing strength” apparently). Having previously changed into a comfortable attire, they began to exercise. Jordana liked to sing while she stretched: Ferdinand liked to shout. But because she was the ultimate singer, she managed to incorporate his screams to her song, and to _actually_ make it sound good. Naturally, such an odd duo attracted a little crowd, and soon Rebecca joined in to exercise with them. Meanwhile, Gwenn and Florian watched from a distance, chatting as they drank more smoothie.

“So what should we start with?” Jordana asked, once the stretching was over. “Push-ups? Pull-ups? Squats?”

“Push-ups naturally!” Ferdinand yelled (god he was cheerful today). “You need arm strength in order to fight properly.”

“Actually you need to have muscles everywhere,” Rebecca corrected. “In order to be efficient, your exercise has to be diverse.”

“Yes, but I fear your teaching,” Ferdinand reminded her. “I am not the most unfit of men, yet I ended up in _extreme suffering_ last time we exercised under your command.”

“Extreme suffering?” Jordana echoed, mockingly. “That must have been something.”

“You do not wish to know, trust me.”

“But it’s not real exercise if it doesn’t hurt a bit,” Rebecca pouted.

“It was not _a bit,”_ Ferdinand said, eyes closed. “Definitely not.”

“Whatever,” Jordana said. “I’m gonna start without you guys!”

She began to exercise, but somehow it looked a little more like a dance. For a while, Rebecca and Ferdinand stood to watch her, curiously. Even in sports wear, Jordana was gracious and beautiful – it turned out she was also very flexible. Ferdinand eventually joined her – his dance moves were far less gracious, but he compensated by pouring a lot of energy into them. Amused, Rebecca was the last to join in. The trio was even stranger to look at now, Florian and Gwenn were utterly perplexed as they saw everything unfold.

“Is this how people normally socialize, you think?” Florian whispered curiously.

“Uh… I’m pretty sure it isn’t, no. Good for them though! They look like they’re having fun.”

To Ferdinand’s surprise, he was the first to be out of breath from the exercise. He took a moment to rest, back against the wall. Jordana wiped her forehead with her wrist, and Rebecca jogged to fetch some water for everyone.

“Impressive!” Ferdinand said when Jordana came to check up on him. “I did not expect you to be so athletic.”

“I’ve been exercising a lot in my prison cell,” the woman explained. “There wasn’t much to do, and besides I figured it could be useful to build some muscles, in case someone attacked me.”

“It does make sense. I admit I underestimated you. A thousand apologies!”

“I’ll take nine-hundred and ninety-nine.”

Rebecca came back with a bottle of fresh water. Once they had all drunk plenty, they agreed to begin the official fighting training – but for that they needed some makeshift weapons (because playing with actual hammers and saws would be too dangerous, and besides it carried horrible memories).

“But what could we even use?” Ferdinand asked.

“I’m sure our kidnappers would be delighted to lend us some real weapons,” Jordana pondered. “But fake ones? Not a chance.”

“There’s always those robot parts on the second floor!” Rebecca suggested.

“Too heavy,” Jordana countered.

“And too dangerous,” Ferdinand added. “Well, maybe we should ask Aphrodite?”

“Why her?” Rebecca asked.

“Because she always has good ideas!”

“I think she was heading for the offices,” Jordana said. “Let’s go check it out!”

Aphrodite was indeed in one of the offices, sitting on the comfy dark armchair. She had moved the useless computers to the floor, and covered the desk with books of all kinds, apparently sorted by theme. She was busy reading an especially thick one, and taking some notes on various sheets of colorful paper.

“Hey Phro, what are you doing?” Rebecca asked politely.

“Reading some more about the ‘Furantur’ virus. I think it’s relevant to our situation.”

“How so?”

“I’ll tell you all some more later, when I’m done reading this book.”

She raised her head, and seemed to finally notice the three people staring at her with curiosity.

“What is it?”

“We’re training,” Jordana explained. “We need fake swords or staffs, but we don’t really know where to find any. Any ideas?”

“Try the elevator room. You might find some cardboard boxes shaped like long tubes. It should be solid enough for training, but not enough to hurt anyone.”

“Oooh, you’re right, that could work!” Rebecca said.

“Aphrodite, the unsung hero of everyone’s small problems,” Jordana chanted.

“We shall pay your back for your immense help!” Ferdinand boomed.

“Okay,” Aphrodite replied.

The three exited the room, ran to the elevator room, and searched for the cardboard tubes. They agreed to fight in pairs, while the other member would watch and judge, giving occasional pieces of advice. Naturally, none of them were experts in the field, but it couldn’t be too hard, right?

Out of the three, Ferdinand was the most enthusiastic, though his eyesight made the task very difficult. He had a tough time following the movements of the “sword”, or even his adversary’s limbs at times. He struck with strength but hardly any speed, and moved around too slowly to dodge the blows, when he failed to parry. Still, he could be very unpredictable, and managed to land a few solid blows which caught his adversaries off-guard (literally).

Jordana was as gracious as ever, but not very talented either. She seemed to be enjoying herself quite a lot, but rarely struck her opponents at all. Still, at least she was very agile on her legs, and could dodge almost any attack. She was a very annoying opponent, because she would cackle madly almost every time she managed a hit.

As for Rebecca, aside from the fact that fencing wasn’t her strong suit, she clearly performed the best of the three. She was fast, agile, but also excellent as conserving her energy. She struck quietly, aiming for the weak spots on her foes’ bodies, countered their tactics with ease, dodged seemingly effortlessly, all while keeping a calm and composed demeanor. Ferdinand praised her so many times she actually had to tell him to stop because it was becoming embarrassing.

“Well, I say this wasn’t too bad, for complete amateurs,” Jordana said once they were done, sitting on an empty crate.

“My entire body hurts!” Ferdinand shouted. “I feel so alive!”

“I hope we never have to put these skills to use, though,” Rebecca said, staring at her feet.

“I hope I do,” Jordana said with a giggle. “I love smacking people in the face.”

“Um, all right.”

“There you are!” Magalie shouted, entering the room. “I’ve been looking all over for y- wait, what the hell happened here?”

Jordana looked around, and realized that the room was a mess. During their training, they had knocked out a considerable amount of crates and cardboard boxes, making their contents spill onto the floor.

“We’ve been training,” she said with a shrug.

“We are on the path of justice!” Ferdinand shouted.

“That too.”

“Dear me,” Magalie said. “I was wondering if you guys could help me clean the restaurant before we have lunch, but I suppose you’ll have to take showers first.”

She crinkled her nose.

“Sooner rather than later.”

**

After lunch was over, Florian and Gwenn ended up once again taking care of the garden. It was growing larger every day, now taking a notable portion of the parking lot: plants grew wherever the asphalt had cracked, and the sprinklers were frequently used to encourage the progress. The bamboo tree was now taller than Gwenn, and had a little brother which had begun to grow right next to it. Other than that, there were now several baby trees, growing in multiple places. Gwenn’s job was to take care of them, while Florian took care of the flowers. He had enough to make bouquets, which he would put into little vases to decorate the restaurant. He was so good at flower-arranging that simply staring at his work was enough to entertain anyone, sometimes for more than fifteen minutes.

“This garden is an aberration,” Florian commented as he watered a baby cherry-tree.

“You don’t say? I know we’re good at our job, but it’s just going… _too_ well, I think.”

“And most of these plants are not supposed to grow in this area either.”

“There are even some I don’t recognize,” Gwenn admitted. “I think I should try to look for a biology book, there might be something I can use in one of the offices.”

“Not to deter your motivation, but I doubt this would be very useful if you seek to understand our garden better.”

“What d’you mean?”

“I believe the war, and the new bio-weapons that were tested at the time, had a long-lasting effect on the land. As such, nature simply adapted to the new situation, and the state of the flora in these regions is probably undocumented to this day.”

“Oh. Yeah, that makes sense I guess. But wait, that’s cool, it means we should study it then! We could be pioneers in the realm of biology!”

“If we ever make it out alive, yes, we could,” Florian replied, stroking his chin. “I admit I am also intrigued, it would bring me joy to study these oddities with you.”

“Say, not to change the subject or anything,” Gwenn said. “But why do you speak like that?”

“Hm? Whatever could you mean?”

“Why do you speak like an old man? I mean, you speak pretty normally whenever you get angry, so… what’s the deal? It’s not natural for you?”

“I do not see what you mean,” Florian mumbled grumpily. “I have always spoken like that.”

Gwenn chuckled.

“Okay grandpa, suit yourself then! Let’s study the hell out of this garden.”

**

“What are you even doing in there?”

Aphrodite was on her way to the restaurant when she noticed someone was inside one of the broken cars. When she opened the door, she found a tired-looking Bob. He hadn’t looked good the previous morning, he looked even worse now.

“Leave me alone,” he said.

“Are you sure? I just want to help you, you know. And besides, we’re supposed to have some meeting at the restaurant. To discuss Lucien’s last words.”

“Why should we do that?” Bob asked dryly. “Lucien was a liar and a fuckin’ killer. His words mean nuthin’.”

“He was about to die,” Aphrodite countered. “Why would he lie to us?”

“People are petty,” Bob replied, staring at her in the eyes. “Once I watched a dude die, he was sick and the hospital wouldn’t take ‘im. Dude hated my guts, but y’know, I thought he’d forgive me in his last moments or sum’thin’. Well, last thing he did was spittin’ in my face.”

He gave Aphrodite a cold stare.

“Sum’ people are just fuckers. I dun’t care about what Lucien was sayin’, so just leave me alone.”

“… Bob.”

“Yeah.”

“This morning, we’ve had a conversation about this. About pinning the anger you have toward yourself on other people-”

“So what!” Bob shouted angrily. “I fuckin’ dunno what to do, man! I’ve been cryin’ all fuckin’ day, just… just gimme a break,” he pleaded, beginning to tear up again. “Lisa’s gone, I dunno if I’m ever gonna see Ryo again… I...”

The rest of his words were drowned in sobs. Aphrodite tried to put a hand on his shoulder, but he kicked it away, and closed the door. She shrugged, and left him there. She didn’t want to be late for the meeting.

“Thank you all for coming,” she said once everyone (except for Bob) had arrived. “We have yet to discuss the second part of Lucien’s message, if I recall.”

“Can’t we eat first?” Gwenn asked, sounding tired. “Whatever we can make of his last words, it can probably wait a bit.”

Aphrodite wasn’t very happy about that, but she agreed anyway. Magalie had made some pasta, with absolutely nothing else, not even salt. It tasted perfectly bland.

“Anyway, I’ve been thinking a bit,” Gwenn said once they were almost done with their plate. “What is there to even discuss? Lucien said something like...”

“He told us the war has resumed,” Magalie finished. “It’s a crucial matter.”

“Yeah but like… there’s not much we can do about it, can we? For as long as we’re trapped in here...”

“It doesn’t even… concern you?” Rebecca asked, dumbfounded. “Our families are in danger, our friends, for all we know the whole country could be on fire!”

“Or even more than that,” Aphrodite chimed in. “The information we have is very vague, but it could be _la troisième guerre mondiale_ for all we know.”

“Yeah, and that’s basically my point,” Gwenn said. “We don’t know shit. Lucien didn’t have enough time to tell us much, and it’s not like the kidnappers are going to just _explain_ everything to us. We don’t know what kind of war it is, where it’s taking place, who it’s targeting, so why would we have to worry? It’s just going to make us feel worse.”

Aphrodite frowned.

“It is still a very important question. Shouldn’t we at least try to figure out what’s going on?”

“With what?” (Gwenn extended both arms.) “How are we supposed to figure it out?”

“I suppose I could help you with that.”

“Eh? Who spoke?”

Monoblade crashed at the center of the table, causing several people to scream.

“The crazy murder-bear is back, everyone! Did you miss me?”

“Absolutely not,” Magalie said coldly.

“You took a while,” Aphrodite noted. “Were you mourning?”

“I hear somebody talking about a war?” Monoblade yelled, completely ignoring the question.

“Uhm, yes, that is what we were discussing,” Rebecca said. “Why?”

“Well if you’re curious about wars, I suggest you go to your rooms! Or one of the offices. Any room with a screen, basically. Your monopads will do if you’re too lazy to walk.”

Everyone took out their monopads at the same time. Aphrodite had forgotten hers in the office, so she looked over Magalie’s shoulder.

A video was displayed on the screen, showing some war tanks in an empty field. Then it switched to some helicopters dropping bombs somewhere, then to some military planes flying above a city. It looked a little like a movie trailer, in a way.

“Where is this taking place?” Magalie asked.

“Everywhere,” Monoblade replied, sounding incredibly excited. “But mostly around the borders. It seems most of the eastern Europe spontaneously decided to declare war on France.”

“What?” Gwenn shouted in pure shock. “Why?”

“Who knows!” Monoblade shrugged. “Well, I do. But I’m not going to tell you.”

Aphrodite focused on the screen. It now showed a little village, apparently located at the south of France, judging from the information written at the bottom of the screen. All the houses were tiny and sand-colored, but the road was quite large. A forest was visible in the distance. A large group of soldiers was walking down a street: they were wearing heavy uniforms, and carrying large guns. Suddenly a group of rebels came out of hiding and attacked them. They were throwing rocks and makeshift bombs, some of them had hunting weapons. The soldiers fired back, and most of the rebels died. It all went extremely fast, so much that Aphrodite’s brain had a hard time registering what was going on. The person filming apparently ran away, but then they were shot too, and the video feed switched so something else.

“It’s… we’re...”

Rebecca seemed incapable of forming a coherent sentence.

“We’re going to lose, no?” Magalie asked, frowning. “We don’t have the fire power to resist against half the continent, even with the GTU’s research results to improve our weaponry.”

“Actually, it’s not just us,” Monoblade corrected. “England, Spain and Italy are on our side. Germany is neutral for now, and everyone’s wondering when the USA is inevitably going to butt in.”

“So is it a world war?” Florian asked nervously.

“Not yet, but it’s probably going to become one. And within the country, it’s a civil war! Because you know, why would you have only one war when you could have two?”

Part of Aphrodite refused to believe what Monoblade was saying, but the footage didn’t stop. It kept showing more and more videos, either of the fights around the borders, or the rebellion within the country. Sometimes she would even recognize the setting: one of the videos showed a group of resistants being murdered in the streets of Montpellier, where she had grown up. Suddenly, she was feeling very sick.

“Why are you showing us this footage?” Jordana asked after a while, forcing herself to look away from the screen. “Doesn’t it work against your goals?”

“What do you mean?” Monoblade asked, pretending not to understand.

“In times of war, a ghost town is probably the safest place we could be at. But your goal is to make us murder each other. If escape isn’t our motive, then what could it be?”

“Haha! A very intelligent observation indeed!”

“Just answer the question,” Magalie complained, rolling her eyes.

“Well, since you’re asking so nicely… the war _itself_ is going to become the new motive this time. It wasn’t exactly planned, but it fell in place rather nicely, don’t you think?”

“But how?” Aphrodite asked.

“There are two ways to survive a war,” Monoblade explained. “Being lucky, or being rich. I can’t give you luck, but I can offer you money.”

“Are you serious?” Florian asked, teeth clenched.

“Yep! I think one million euros should be enough for your little greedy hearts?”

“O-one million,” Rebecca repeated, eyes wide.

“Transferred to your bank account right away, yup! Or in cash if you’re that kind of person.”

“No way,” Ferdinand said firmly. “This has to be a trick! You wish to trick us, bear?”

“Me? Tricking people? You wound me, blind boy. I can assure you I have all the money. In fact, I’ll show you a sample if you don’t believe me.”

He took a step toward the right, and a metal case fell from the ceiling. Rebecca opened it carefully. It was filled with banknotes. Florian and Magalie spent a long while inspecting them, looking for the watermark.

“It’s the real deal,” Florian eventually admitted. “He’s not lying to us.”

“Thank you for your expertise, flower boy! I’m glad you survived just for that.”

 _“_ _Bâtard,”_ Florian mumbled angrily.

“As I said previously,” Monoblade continued, “you have three days to kill someone, starting tomorrow morning. The money will be yours, and you can escape to save your family, friends, or whoever’s out there that you don’t want dying. We’ll bring you safely to wherever you need to be, and then you can do your thing, we won’t bother you anymore. But hurry up! The more you wait, the more chances you have of your relatives dying! Also-”

He was interrupted by the sound of something crashing. Rebecca hadn’t stopped watching the footage for a second, but she had dropped her monopad suddenly, and now she was hugging herself and shaking uncontrollably.

“What is it?” Monoblade asked in delight. “You see something you don’t like?”

Rebecca was breathing with difficulty. Ferdinand and Gwenn got up to help her, but she jumped from her seat and ran away. Gwenn and Ferdinand looked at the group confusedly, then Gwenn ran after her, quickly followed by Florian. Ferdinand would have done the same, but he remembered that he was supposed to guard Jordana.

“I guess she saw her house on fire,” Monoblade said, stifling a yawn. “If you find a body tomorrow, you’ll know who to suspect.”

“You...” Magalie said menacingly.

“Oh, you love me so much Magalie,” Monoblade cooed. “I can see it in you eyes!”

“Is there anything else you wanted to tell us?” Aphrodite asked neutrally.

“Yes! I’ll open more rooms for you on the second floor tomorrow, be sure to investigate those carefully!”

“Thanks. Now go away.”

“Okie!~”

And just like that, he was gone. Aphrodite let out a long sigh.

“What the fuck,” she blurted out.

“Amen,” Magalie completed.

**

Typhaine was walking inside a dark tunnel, damp and muddy. The walls were made of stone, completely devoid of decoration. Lucien was leading the way, holding her hand, gently yet firmly. There was a light at the end of the tunnel, no matter how much she walked, it didn’t seem to ever get closer.

“You must be patient,” Lucien was saying. “It matters not where we go, it only matters that we walk.”

“Why?” She asked.

But she obtained no answer.

Something was leaking from the ceiling: either it was blood, or it was red paint. Typhaine felt it dripping onto her body: it was uncomfortably warm, and felt a little sticky. Some words were carved onto the walls, but Typhaine couldn’t read them very well. Whenever she tried to focus her eyes on the letters, they seemed to twist themselves into something unrecognizable.

“Lucien, I’m scared,” she said, but no words came from her mouth.

“I know,” he replied. “But you are safe. I am merely waiting for you on the other side. It matters not how long it takes for you to join me: I will never go away.”

“I don’t understand.”

She stopped walking. The water level was rising: she could see her reflection in it. She looked like a monster, with all the blood leaking from her face. It was disgusting.

Then she saw Lucien’s reflection as well. His body looked normal, but his face… it was definitely not human. It was made of metal, mechanical parts endlessly twitching and spinning in a complex order.

“Who are you?” She asked.

“A lie, like so many things around you. Be careful, Typhaine. There is only one truth.”

He put his hands on her shoulders, they were immensely heavy, and she felt as if the world was crushing beneath her feet. Her eyes shot open wide as she woke up, and she realized she was still at the hospital, safely tucked into her bed. There was a real hand on her shoulder, however. A hand with only four fingers.

“Ryoji…?” She asked in a raspy voice.

He was towering over her, his eyes deeply coated in dark shadows, with the pale light coming from above. His facial expression was almost neutral, but there was something unsettling about it.

Ryoji had always evoked a bear to many people, mostly due to his size. A teddy bear to be more specific. It matched his personality and general aesthetic, he owned a lot of bear-themed clothes (Typhaine recalled that he even had a hoodie with little bear ears on the hood). It also matched his ultimate talent quite well, since teddy bears were meant to be hugged.

Indeed, Ryoji had always evoked a bear in Typhaine’s imagination: tall, soft, large and chunky. It was the first time he actually looked like the predator part. Perhaps it was because he was so tall and she was so short, but she suddenly felt terrified of him.

“Ryoji, what are you doing?” She squeaked. “Get away please.”

He took his hand from her shoulder without saying a word. He opened his mouth, as if he wanted to say something, but then closed it again. He had never looked so weird before.

“S-sorry,” Typhaine said, trying to calm the trembling of her body. “Uh… how are you?”

Ryoji didn’t reply anything. He simply stared at her passively, as if he were somehow expecting something. His features were relaxed, his eyes were cold and dead, his arms resting against the sides of his body.

 _Maybe he can’t hear me,_ Typhaine thought. _Wait, but I can hear myself. What happened?_

She distinctly remembered the “storm” in her ears, blocking out all sounds, including her own voice. But it was now gone, so what was going on? She apprehensively put a hand against her left ear, and felt something cold there. She couldn’t see it, but she guessed it must be a hearing aid. It made sense, in a way: the explosion had made a lot of noise, it must have damaged her ears permanently. That made her feel a little sad, but it was only a drop of sadness in an already existing river.

Ryoji was still not moving. Typhaine got out of bed, watching him carefully. She somehow expected him to suddenly attack her at any moment. Maybe it was just her paranoia, but wouldn’t it make sense, in a way? After all, he must hate her quite a lot. She had cut his friend’s corpse to pieces, and tried to lead everyone to a false conclusion during the trial, which would have killed him if she had succeeded. She remembered how she had desecrated the body, how she had shaped the blood to look like a cross… her hands still felt bloody even now, she could never rid herself of the urge to wash them.

Ryoji’s gaze followed Typhaine as she walked around the room, but he didn’t move from his spot. She hadn’t taken the time to properly investigate the room last time, but there truly wasn’t much to see. Two hospital beds, white walls, a white ceiling, a desk and a TV.

_Exactly like the hospital rooms we’ve been sleeping in, back at the facility._

She climbed onto Ryoji’s bed, and looked at the view through the tall window. The sun was setting, she could see the town and the ocean, and even the red train they had boarded a few weeks ago. It looked like they were in a very tall building, at least twenty stories high. It made her feel a little dizzy.

“Ryoji? Do you want to explore with me?” She asked quietly.

He didn’t reply anything, but followed her silently when she moved toward the door. She felt a drop of cold sweat running down her back.

_Why is he acting so weird now? It’s freaking me out._

She opened the door, and found an armed guard standing watch over the hallway.

“Good day sir,” she said politely. “May we get out?”

“No,” he replied neutrally.

“Why?”

“I’m not allowed to answer your questions.”

“What if I need to go to the bathroom?”

“There’s a switch in your room. You can use it to call a doctor, who’ll accompany you to the nearest bathroom.”

She closed the door, and turned around to look at Ryoji.

“We can’t get out,” she said uselessly.

He didn’t reply. He didn’t really seem to understand what was going on. Suddenly she felt an overwhelming sense of sadness, threatening to flood her consciousness. Ryoji was gone, there was nothing going through his mind. He was as obedient as a dog, empty as a shell. He had completely broken down, and it was partially her fault. She had turned him into a _vegetable_. And all for what? What had she been trying to achieve?

She burst into tears and hugged him desperately. She buried her face in his belly and sobbed, no longer capable of aligning two words properly. She couldn’t feel anything but a painful blur of negative emotions.

For a while Ryoji didn’t react in any way. Then slowly, without saying a word, he wrapped his arms around her, returning the embrace. Typhaine was still sobbing, but suddenly there was a touch of warmth in her cold river of sadness. Ryoji wasn’t completely gone. Perhaps it had been a reflex, but he had reacted to her sadness. He was still there, in a way.

“Ryoji,” she stuttered, wiping her eyes. “I’m s-so sorry for what I did to you, it was so unfair, I never wanted to hurt you like that. You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to, but… thank you.”

She sniffled.

“Thank you for saving my life. I’m glad you’re here. Thank you.”

What happened next was a little fuzzy in her memory. She wasn’t sure why, but when she woke up again, she was back in her bed. Maybe she had moved on her own, or Ryoji had carried her there. This time she was alone in the room, and it was morning. She was hungry.

She went down from her bed, looked around for the switch, intending to call a doctor: but before she could, someone had already opened the door. It was a blond woman wearing a nurse uniform. She looked perfectly ordinary.

_“_ _Madame Hagier? L’hélicoptère vous attend.”_

_The helicopter? Does that mean I can see the others again?_

“Where is Ryoji?” She asked, refusing to move from her spot.

“He will stay here for a little longer,” the nurse explained. “He needs a short therapy and prescriptions before we can let him go.”

Something seemed to be angering her significantly, but Typhaine didn’t know her well enough to guess what it could be. She followed her without resistance, leaving the bedroom behind, and walking toward an elevator. The nurse called the elevator, and pushed her inside once the doors opened.

“The helicopter is waiting on the roof, all you have to do is get inside.”

“Okay,” Typhaine said.

“Ah, and before I go, you might need this.”

The nurse shoved a gray object in her hands, right before the doors closed. It was made of a thick fabric, it looked like it had been patched up in several places. It didn’t look great, but at least it was clean.

Typhaine put it on her head, and took a slow breath. The nurse had been right, she had needed this. Who was she without her cap anyway? It was impossible to hide her face without it. _Now_ she was ready to face the others, and to apologize for her hideous crime.


	37. Apology, Conspiracy and Poverty

The helicopter landed in the middle of the parking lot, like it always did. Typhaine wasn’t aware, but it was actually 5am, and most of her classmates were still asleep. It was a rather cold morning, the sun was completely blocked off by some thick gray clouds. The cat ( _What did we call it already?_ she wondered. _Right, Hope._ ) glared at her curiously, before trotting away from her and into the restaurant lounge. She put a hand in front of her face to shield her eyes from the flying dust. Her cap flew away, she turned around and ran to catch it; as she was crouching near the fence, she heard the sound of a car door opening. Turning around swiftly, she saw Bob coming out of a car, looking exhausted and upset.

She felt her chest tighten in fear. Bob was one of the students she had accused during the previous trial. She had lied to everyone, calling him a murderer. And now she had to confront him, because they were the only two people in this parking lot, and it wasn’t like she could run away or hide (no matter how tempting it sounded). Besides, she needed to apologize for her actions. So she took a brave step forward, hoping that he wasn’t going to yell at her.

“Hi,” she began, her voice already shaky with fright.

“Whu- whatchu doin’ here?”

Bob looked more confused than angry, as if he could somehow not recognize her. He smelled strongly of wine, she figured he was probably still hungover. She briefly wondered if her classmates had been hosting a party the previous night.

His gaze lifted from her, and looked toward the sky, where the helicopter could be seen in the distance.

“I, uh...” Typhaine began. “They released me.”

“Only you?” Bob asked, sounding very sad. “Where’s Ryo?”

“S-still at the hospital. They said he needed a little therapy before he could come out.”

She was twitching her hands nervously, feeling a little sweaty. She knew what Bob had done to Lucien, she remembered that he had broken his door and attacked the priest. Why he had done that, she wasn’t sure, but for all she knew he had _truly_ been planning to commit a murder. She was scared the news about Ryoji would anger him so much that he’d lash out on her. He was much taller than her, he could easily beat her in a fight.

 _If he attacks me, no one will be_ _able_ _to save me,_ she realized. _I could die, here and now._

“Didja see him?” Bob was asking. “Ryo, how was he doin’? Is he okay?”

“H-he...”

Her throat was dry. She couldn’t lie to him, but she was scared of what he would do when he learned the truth. Her eyes were watering just a little. She licked her lips.

“He’s not good,” she admitted, holding her hands in front of her face as Bob took yet another step toward her. “He… when you look at him, it’s like he’s dead inside. Like he can’t see or hear anything. But when you tell him to do something, he obeys right away. L-like a dog,” she added, because it was the thought which had occurred to her at the time.

 _“_ _Bordel,”_ Bob swore, clenching his fists in anger. “Fuck this. Why wasn’t I…?”

Typhaine took a step back, her heart racing. Bob seemed to remember her presence.

“Ah, sorry, Bob’s not in his best state right now,” he said shamefully. “Haven’t had much time to sleep. Thanks for the info, Typh. I jus’ hope he’ll come out of there soon.”

_Huh?_

“You’re not mad at me?” She asked in disbelief.

“Nah,” Bob said, shaking his head. “I mean, I’m sorta mad that you wanted me to die, but like… ya saved my bro’s life. It shoulda been me, but ya did it.”

He took off his beanie, almost ceremoniously.

“Thank ya, Typh. I won’t forget it.”

He smiled at her, and raised a thumb up. She felt all of the tension and stress which had been building up within her suddenly wash off, and nearly fell on her knees. It wasn’t exactly a bad feeling, but she wondered if she wasn’t going to faint. Bob seemed to notice something was wrong.

“Uh, ya okay Typh? Oh geez.”

He picked her up before she could fall, grabbing her by the arms. Crouching next to her, holding her gently like a very fragile thing, he shot her a concerned glance.

“Uh, for how long haven’t ya been eatin’?”

“I don’t know,” Typhaine admitted.

“’s prolly a good idea ‘f I take ya to the restaurant, then, yeah? I’ll make ya some breakfast or sum’thin’, and we’ll wait for the others to arrive.”

He carried her to the restaurant like one would carry a child, which was probably unnecessary, but nice in its own way. Bob could be a bit of a macho, but in such a candid way that it was hard to hate him for it. He sat her on a chair, brought her some water, and began to make breakfast. Thankfully Aphrodite arrived pretty soon, and released him from breakfast duty before he could blow up the kitchen. He excused himself and left to take a shower. Aphrodite brought Typhaine a pile of toasts, with a wide variety of jams to choose from. She sat across from her, assuming a neutral position.

“How do you feel?” She asked after a moment.

“Better,” Typhaine said. “Not great, but not so bad either.”

She could still hardly believe Bob had _thanked_ her. She had yet to apologize to him for her sins.

“I see they took one of your fingers as well,” Aphrodite noted.

“Huh?”

Typhaine didn’t know what Aphrodite was talking about: but she eventually realized that her left hand was missing its pinky. How come she had never noticed that?

“And that implant on your ears, it’s because the explosion damaged your eardrums, right?”

“I think so. I just woke up with it.”

“Can you tell me what happened?”

“I’ll wait for the others to arrive, if you don’t mind.”

Aphrodite agreed to wait. It took several hours for everyone to gather around the table: in the meantime, Aphrodite explained what had happened during the last few days, including the new motive, and the war situation. Typhaine was glad to have that new worry to add to her already large pile of worries. One more and she’d probably go fully insane.

Once the others were here, she summarized her last few days, including her weird nightmare and ended her speech with a very clumsy apology to all those she had hurt. Jordana, Aphrodite and Magalie seemed extremely curious about the posters she had found on her first day: the ones with her dead classmates, and the word “failure” stamped on their head.

“It’s really strange,” Aphrodite mumbled to herself. “Who did you say was on these pictures again?”

“Sébastien, Alexander, Bertrand, Suzie, Jordana and Lucien,” Typhaine repeated.

Jordana laughed.

“So I count as a failure, is that it? But it’s weird that I’m the only live one. You’re sure there wasn’t anyone else on that wall?”

“I’m not sure,” Typhaine admitted. “When I found Lucien’s picture, I… I blacked out. There could have been Lisa or Julie in there, I’m not sure.”

“No, I don’t think that’s possible,” Magalie countered.

“Uh, why d’ya think that?” Bob asked.

“Because the posters follow the death order. If Julie had been on that list, they would have put her poster before Bertrand’s, and Lisa’s would have been before Lucien’s.”

“So the ones who are counted as ‘failures’ are the murderers, right?” Rebecca asked. “Or the would-be murderers in Jordana’s case.”

“But why would Sébastien be on that list, then?” Ferdinand asked. “He was a lovely lad, he would have never hurt anyone!”

“You barely knew him, though,” Florian countered. “For all we know he could have been planning a murder, and we simply never noticed.”

“That would explain the poster,” Aphrodite admitted. “Or they considered that him losing the vote is what made him a failure. He would have failed to earn our trust, thus earning his title.”

“Whatev’s the reason, it makes my blood boil,” Bob said angrily. “That they be slappin’ our pics to a wall like that, givin’ us labels an’ all, like we’re sum’ kinda… lab rats, or sum shit.”

“I wonder if Typhaine’s picture was on this wall,” Jordana pondered. “I wonder if they consider that what she did to Lisa’s body makes her a failure too. It happened after Lucien’s crime, so she could have very well missed the poster.”

“It’s not impossible,” Typhaine admitted. “I certainly deserve that title.”

“I wouldn’t call you a failure, but you definitely have issues,” Aphrodite said bluntly. “By the way, I was wondering if we shouldn’t keep her under surveillance like Jordana?” She asked the others.

“Surveillance?” Typhaine repeated.

“We didn’t want to use the prison system again,” Rebecca explained. “So Magalie and Ferdinand remain with Jordana at all times, so she doesn’t get… weird ideas again.”

“It is a task I take great pride in!” Ferdinand shouted.

“But you don’t take it very seriously,” Magalie said, rolling her eyes. “I have to do most of the work.”

Ferdinand’s eyes widened in shock, but Aphrodite cut in before he could yell something back at Magalie.

“So who will be watching over Typhaine? Any volunteers?”

“I will,” Bob said with determination. “Y’all can trust me, I won’t fuck this up.”

“Good. Anyone else?”

“Yeah, I’ll do it,” Rebecca said. “It’ll be safer for everyone, at any rate.”

She turned her head toward Typhaine.

“Works with you?” She asked gently. “If you’d rather be with someone else...”

“No no, it’s fine!” Typhaine said quickly. “It’s for the best, you said it.”

“Good. Well, I have some books to read,” Aphrodite said. “Seeya at lunch.”

“And I need to continue working on my thesis,” Magalie added.

“The garden isn’t going to take care of itself,” Gwenn commented.

“We need to follow the path of the sword!” Ferdinand yelled.

Soon enough, everyone had left the room, except for Typhaine, Bob and Rebecca. Typhaine felt a little awkward around the two.

“So what do we do?” Rebecca asked. “Monoblade said he would open more rooms on the second floor, how about we go explore them?”

“Oh yeah, guess we should,” Bob said. “In case there’s sum’thin’ dangerous up there, we gotta warn the others.”

They left the table and went to the second floor. The robot room hadn’t changed, on the notable exception that Jordana’s mess had been cleaned. The door on the west wall was unlocked, and indeed led to the second floor’s elevator room. The large elevator was taking the center of the room, the floor was still made of mirrors, and the walls were still blank. Here too there were crates and cardboard boxes, disseminated all over the place, in messy piles.

“I don’t recall ordering anything,” Rebecca said as she opened one of the cardboard boxes. “Why is there so much stuff here?”

“It’s like Christmas,” Typhaine commented.

“You’ll bet there’s plenty o’ weapons in there,” Bob said gloomily. “More stuff for us to dump in the sewers.”

“Well… come beck this out,” Rebecca suggested.

They did as they were told, and looked inside the box. There were nothing but candles: long candles, small candles, scented candles, birthday candles, nothing but a ridiculous amount of candles.

“Wha’s all this?” Bob asked. “Why’d they give us so many candles?”

“Maybe they’re expecting us to perform a satanic ritual,” Rebecca chuckled.

“No no no, we don’t call Satan!” Typhaine squeaked in fear. “But… I guess it’s nice to have candles here. It’s a harmless gift.”

“Yeah, it’s odd for sure, but I expected worse.”

They went to open the other boxes, and found more miscellaneous objects: ropes, hairpins, CDs, paper plates, all sorted out neatly, and placed in this room for very obscure reason.

“I’m so confused,” Bob said. “Why the hell is all that stuff ‘ere? It’s just so… random.”

“Oh look, there’s a crate full of plushies,” Typhaine said, smiling warmly.

“Really? I’ll have to show it to Ryo when he comes back, I bet he’ll love it.”

Rebecca turned to look at Bob.

“You really love him, don’t you?”

“Well duh,” Bob replied with a slight blush. “He’s jus’ a really great dude, of course I luv’im.”

They opened the north door, and found themselves in a hallway. On the left side, they found two classrooms, which puzzled Rebecca a lot (“I thought we were in a hospital?”). Each classroom had five rows of five seats, a white board and a trash can. They didn’t find anything strange or curious in them, so they quickly left, and went to the room on the right side of the hallway. It was a single yet large room, which looked a lot like a conference room. There was one large round table at the center, pencils and notebooks placed near each seat, comfy chairs, a white board, large windows and a coat rack. It wasn’t very interesting, so they soon left and went back to the elevator room: they had yet to search the eastern wing.

Above the door there was a digital clock, with a sign that read “AI room”. The room was huge, just like the robot room: it was seemingly a maze of gigantic computers. Typhaine counted twenty-three screens, for seventeen keyboards. Oddly enough, those were turned off – she had expected them to feature the war broadcasts, just like every other screen in the facility.

At the far south corner of the room, there was a tiny office, crawling under various papers. It was placed right next to the window, which could be closed with a curtain. A variety of posters had been taped to the wall: they showed pictures of people, with information about their personal life written underneath.

“Those posters…!” Typhaine said in shock, covering her mouth with both hands.

“Are they like the ones you saw last time?”

“Yeah, they are! It’s the same format, except...”

“The stamp doesn’t say ‘failure’ Bob finished.

There were multiple stamps on these people’s heads. “Useful”, “Useless”, “Dangerous”, “Canceled” and “Deceased”, and each word came with a different color. Typhaine got the same cold feeling as last time when she read the words: it was still not right to label people in such a way, to sum up their entire existence with a simple observation.

“Who even are these folks?” Bob asked. “Here it says that this one was born in 1975. Geez, I didn’t expect this place to be _that_ old.”

“Wait, what?” Rebecca asked. “1975, are you sure?”

“This other one was born in 1988,” Typhaine said, squinting to read the tiny words. “It’s a German man, apparently he was a math teacher.”

Bob was apparently pondering about something.

“Ya think these folks have sum’thin’ to do with us? Like, they’re our ancestors or sum’thin?”

“Uh,” Rebecca said. “I don’t see my grandma anywhere.”

“Neither do I,” Typhaine said.

“Oh, okay, it was a dumb idea anyway”, Bob sighed. “But then who the hell _are_ these guys?”

“No clue,” Rebecca admitted. “I suppose their identity has something to do with this room…?”

“The AI room,” Typhaine recalled. “ _IA_ for _intelligence artificielle_ , right?”

“So these folks are robots?” Bob asked, eyes wide.

“Uh,” Rebecca said. “It’s possible? I guess?”

“We don’t live in a sci-fi novel though,” Typhaine argued. “If the research on AIs had made that much progress, wouldn’t we know about it?”

“Not if they hid the building in a goddamn ghost town,” Bob countered.

“Oh, right. But wait, like, these people are super old! They’re from before the war! So like, it doesn’t make sense, does it?”

“My head hurts,” Rebecca said, rubbing her temples. “Why does everything have to be so complicated?”

“We’ll just have to ask Aphrodite, I s’pose,” Bob said in defeat.

“We _always_ ask Aphrodite, though. Shouldn’t we give her a break for once?”

“Yeah, maybe.”

They found another door: it probably led to the third floor, but it was locked. They collectively agreed to leave.

“Kinda weird of the kidnappers to open just these three rooms,” Bob said thoughtfully. “Last time we got a whole sewer maze, the robo room, and the large apartment suites… why d’we get so little this time?”

“Now that you mention it, it _is_ strange, isn’t it?” Rebecca asked. “Maybe we haven’t seen everything. Hey Monoblade?”

“Reporting for duty!” The robot shouted, dropping from the ceiling in Typhaine’s arms.

“Don’t scare me like that!” The girl squeaked, tossing him down the stairs.

“Hey, watch out! You’re not allowed to break your beloved headmaster! I could execute you for that!”

“Oh, sorry.”

“Hey, robo-bear!” Bob shouted. “You heard our conversation, right?”

“I did. You want to explore a new place? Open the restaurant’s back door!”

“The restaurant has a back door?” Rebecca asked curiously. “I never noticed.”

“That’s because it’s hidden,” Monoblade said.

“Well, can you tell us where it is?”

“I could, but it’d be more fun to let you kids figure it out by yourselves. So I’ll be leaving you to it! _Au revoir!”_

“A hidden door?” Bob asked, puzzled. “Ain’t that a stupid concept.”

“Let’s go check it out,” Typhaine suggested. “The restaurant isn’t that big, it shouldn’t be too difficult.”

They split up to search the restaurant. Bob inspected the walls carefully, Typhaine the ceiling and floorboards, while Rebecca moved the furniture in the kitchen. As it turned out, the door was simply concealed by the fridge. It was very small and narrow: Bob imagined that Ryoji would have a hard time going through it.

“Okay, we found it,” Rebecca said. “Want to take a guess at what’s beyond?”

“Weapons,” Bob said darkly. “Guns, bombs… maybe a war tank for all we know!”

“But shouldn’t it lead outside?” Typhaine wondered. “Maybe it’s another street, blocked by the fence. There could be a few shops too.”

“Maybe we’ll finally have a laundry room?” Rebecca said hopefully. “I’m getting sick of washing my clothes manually.”

“Only one way to find out,” Bob said with resignation, before he went through the door.

It wasn’t what he had expected. Indeed, as Typhaine had predicted, they were outside: but it wasn’t a street.

“Holy shit, it’s a graveyard!”

Bob took a few steps and crouched close to the nearest grave. The stone was covered in moss and leaves, but he wiped it with his hand, and read the name. It wasn’t anyone he had ever heard of.

“Why on earth is there a graveyard here?” Rebecca asked curiously.

Bob got back up. In the middle of the square, there was a large fountain, almost overflowing with clear water. Two broken street lights stood on the west side, one of them cut in two pieces, the top half resting on the cobbles. The place was very dusty, yet grass and moss were growing everywhere, and there was even a large tree near a broken bench. A string was tied from the tree’s trunk to the non-broken street light: a bunch of french flags were tied to it, fluttering in the wind.

“This is certainly a weird-ass place,” Bob muttered to himself. “But cool I guess.”

“Guys, you have to come see this,” Typhaine said from the other end of the graveyard.

“What did you find?” Rebecca asked when they had joined her. “Oh, I see.”

Typhaine was standing in front of Julie’s grave. Contrary to most of the others, this one looked new and clean. A bust of Julie’s head had been carved out of stone and was resting on the top, instead of a cross. The following words had been carved on her tomb:

_Death is not the end: it’s just the beginning._

“What the hell duzzat mean?” Bob asked, scratching his head. “Is this sum’ spiritual shit again?”

“Maybe they are referring to heaven, and the Lord’s protection,” Typhaine said quietly.

“But there’s no cross on the tomb, though,” Rebecca argued. “Do you think our kidnappers are part of some weird cult?”

“Eh, wouldn’t surprise me,” Bob shrugged. “I assume the other tombs are around?”

“Yes, I can see Bertrand’s and Suzie’s grave,” Typhaine said. “But uh...”

“What is it?” Rebecca asked.

“The message isn’t the same. Look.”

Bob squinted at Bertrand’s tomb.

_Noting awaits those who don’t pass the test._

“Okay tha’s just messed up,” Bob said, shivering. “I really dun’t like this at all.”

“The same message is written on Suzie’s tomb,” Rebecca said, equally uncomfortable. “But why…?

“These bloody bastards put us in this disgusting killing game, and they have the fucking _audacity_ to judge us for what we do? Even after they do everythin’ to force us to kill? Tha’s just fuckin’ gross, and tha’s the end of it.”

Typhaine was crouching in front of Lucien’s tomb, hands joined in a prayer gesture. She had put a flower on it, and was crying softly. Bob immediately felt his anger washing away, and even felt a little stupid for shouting at a moment like this. He and Rebecca decided to give Typhaine a moment.

When she was done, she wiped her eyes, and came back to the group as if nothing had happened. Rebecca asked if she was all right, but the woman didn’t reply anything, simply adjusting her cap.

The messages on the tomb were always the same: positive for the victims, negative for the killers. The only notable exception was Sébastien’s tomb. The message read:

_Rejected by the group, Sébastien was the killing game’s first victim. Why was he chosen? Did his classmates sense a threat coming from him? Were they right to eliminate him? Did he pass the test, or did he fail?_

“This is probably the weirdest one,” Rebecca pondered. “I don’t even know what to say.”

“So is this a clue to the killing game’s intent?” Typhaine asked. “Do they want to test our moral compass?”

“It makes no fuckin’ sense,” Bob sighed. “I’m just tired at this point.”

To the west and east, there were two large broken buildings, blocking the path completely. They had been wrecked beyond recognition, and it was impossible to get in. To the north, there was a narrow street: its ground was bumpy and full of holes. It was blocked by the fence after two hundred meters, but it gave access to a laundromat and a sports store. The laundromat was excessively ordinary: there were ten washing machines, detergent dispensers, driers and a few chairs. As for the sport store, it offered all kinds of supplies, from basketballs to swimsuits. Typhaine was mildly concerned to find all the bows and arrows, javelins, _pétanque_ balls, dumbbells, and other supplies which could so easily be used as weapons.

“Yet more stuff to throw down the sewers,” Bob said cheerfully.

“We can’t just throw _everything,”_ Rebecca pouted. “There’s some good stuff in there too! It could be very useful to my sports class.”

“We’ll just discuss it with the group,” Typhaine suggested. “We’ll see what the others think.”

At lunch, Typhaine summarized what they had discovered during their search. Aphrodite was naturally very curious about the AI room and the graveyard, and promised to inspect them herself. She had this glint in her eye: she truly was passionate about all the mystery-solving.

“So basically, we have to decide what we do with the weapons?” Gwenn asked. “Well it’s easy, we’ll just have to throw them down in the sewers again. Ferdinand can do it.”

“What?” Ferdinand asked, outraged. “Why me?”

“Because you’re, like… on the path of justice or whatever. That sounds a lot like a you kinda job.”

“Are you trying to use me, young… uh… young non-binary gent?” Ferdinand shouted threateningly.

“Please stop,” Magalie asked, rolling her eyes. “We’ll do it together, it won’t take long. We already have to clean the campus this afternoon anyway.”

“Do we really have to?” Florian asked with a shrug. “If one of us really wants to murder someone, they could still use a kitchen knife, or choke them, or beat them with a rock… we can’t get rid of everything. And even if we did get rid of every dangerous objects, there’s still the water room and fountain, where you can easily drown someone.”

“Wow, that was depressing,” Rebecca commented.

“Yeah but you get my point, right? Why even bother?”

“We are not going to make life easy for the culprits!” Ferdinand shouted, scandalized.

“The culprits?” Florian repeated. “But if someone really wants to murder another person, they will not be deterred so easily. We have all seen the footage, have we not?”

“The war footage?” Typhaine asked timidly.

“Indeed. Our friends, our families, all the people we know from the outside world, they are all in danger. It is not a question of ‘if’, it is a question of ‘when’. One of us _will_ break, and nothing we do will ever work to prevent a new murder from happening.”

A short silence welcomed his words, as he sat down.

“Uh, Flo, where the heck is that coming from?” Bob asked. “Ya need a hug or sum’thin’?”

“No, I do not need a _hug,”_ Florian replied, teeth clenched. “And do not call me that, you _ape._ We are not friends.”

“Ape?” Bob repeated in shock. “Well fuck you too!”

“Florian, I get how you’re feeling-” Rebecca began.

“No, you do not. I saw you yesterday, I saw the fear in your eyes, when you watched the footage. You are afraid, are you not?”

“Of course I am,” Rebecca replied, sadly. “They showed that Paris was under attack, most of the eastern districts have been destroyed… that’s where my family lives. I don’t want them to die! But that doesn’t mean I’m suddenly going to turn mad and kill one of you.”

“That is what you say now, but how can I believe your words?” Florian asked, smiling smugly. “Obviously a killer would hide their real intentions.”

“He’s right, you know!” Gwenn chimed in. “Our kidnappers are expert at manipulation. These war videos, they’re probably meant to target a few of us specifically. The kidnappers are trying to break our group cohesion!”

“Oh please,” Bob said, rolling his eyes. “Yer overreactin’.”

“You can choose to ignore the reality as much as you like,” Florian replied, smiling darkly as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “But if I were you, I’d stay away from the most simple-minded among us from now on. Rebecca, Ferdinand, Bob… and Typhaine, obviously.”

“Hey!” Rebecca shouted in protest.

“How rude!” Ferdinand roared. “I cannot let these insults stand!”

“Bloody bastard,” Bob spat.

“Look at them,” Florian said with a chuckle. “Can you not already see how unstable they are? Our enemy’s plan is obvious. They want to-”

“Florian you absolute idiot, shut the fuck up before you embarrass yourself further you disgusting _rat,”_ Jordana said icily.

Typhaine stopped breathing for a second. Jordana had never sounded so angry before. Where did that sudden outburst come from? Florian seemed as shocked as everyone else, but he tried to act unbothered.

“And why should I remain silent, pray tell?”

“Idiot. Your ridiculous attempt at hiding your paranoia behind a layer or cynicism is not only painfully obvious, it’s also downright insensitive. No one around this table is a killer, shouldn’t it be obvious by now? With your stupid rat face and your insufferable personality, you should have died a long time ago. The fact that you’re still standing proves that you’re surrounded by literal saints.”

Florian went pale as a sheet. He got up from his chair, pointing a finger at her dramatically.

“You… you whore!” He shouted angrily. “How dare you speak to me like that?”

“But I’m only voicing everyone’s opinion,” Jordana replied, faux-cutely, waving peace signs at him. “All of them are too polite to say anything, so it’s up to naughty Jordie to shove the truth in your stupid rat face! But have no doubt,” she added very seriously. “Nobody likes you.”

Florian probably wanted to yell something back at her, but he didn’t seem to know what - or perhaps he was simply struggling to hold back tears. Letting out a painful grunt, he ran away from the room, soon followed by Gwenn.

“Whatever the _fuck_ , Jordie?” Bob asked, sounding both angry and impressed.

“Why did you have to say that?” Ferdinand shouted, scandalized. “You have to apologize to him right now!”

“Why?” Jordana asked flatly. “It’s unstrategic to encourage him: with that attitude, he’ll only provoke more anger and stress, which could lead to strong divisions among the group, or even worse, chaos.”

“But still, you didn’t have to be so harsh,” Rebecca said frightfully.

“I am so disappointed in you, Jordana!” Ferdinand yelled, and he truly sounded sincere. “Even after all this time, you do not learn from your mistakes!”

Somehow, Jordana seemed a little hurt by his words.

“I won’t apologize. For the sake of the group, I had to speak up.”

“For the sake of the group, really?” Magalie asked doubtfully. “Since when does that matter to you?”

“The group’s well-being affects me directly, now that I’ve become a part of it,” Jordana explained calmly. “You’re right, my objectives are purely selfish, I won’t try to deny it. And that’s why I have to diffuse any situation which could potentially end up harming me. Sure, hurting Florian’s feelings is risky in itself, but I think that’s a risk I can afford to take. He isn’t smart enough to actually threaten my life.”

“Are you really that calculating?” Aphrodite asked curiously. “Or are you hiding something again?”

“Who knows?” Jordana replied mysteriously, smiling at Aphrodite. “Wouldn’t you like to find out, detective?” She added in a flirtatious tone.

“Jordana, you will cease this immediately,” Ferdinand ordered coldly. “We need to have a conversation you and I: _right now.”_

He planted his gaze in her brown eyes, fiercely. She didn’t break eye-contact.

“Fine,” She said, getting up from her chair. “Let’s get this over with.”

She, Ferdinand and Magalie left the lunch table.

“Okay,” Typhaine said quietly. “I didn’t see that coming.”

“Me neither,” Bob admitted with a sigh. “Jeez, it was embarrassing to watch. I kinda wonder if that’s how y’all felt when I was arguin’ with Lucien before.”

“Something like that,” Aphrodite admitted. “I guess it was to be expected. I hope Florian doesn’t feel too bad.”

There was a pause, during which none of the four remaining people knew what to say.

“So uh, Phro,” Bob began. “Ya were readin’ all them big books. Found anything cool in’em?”

“I have been reading about the ‘Furantur’ virus, yes. I suppose I could tell you a little about it.”

“What a weird name for a virus,” Rebecca commented. “What does it do exactly?”

“In short, it makes you crazy,” Aphrodite explained flatly. “It’s one of the rare viruses which attacks the brain directly: first, it alters a subject’s perception of their environment, then their memory, and in the worst cases, their ability to process their emotions properly. The overall effect can depend greatly on the subject. Some scientists have tended to call it “the mirror virus”, because from an outside perspective, it often looks like a subject’s personality is reversed.”

“Okay,” Bob said, nodding in understanding. “So tha’s a really nasty thing, yeah. Uh… are we in danger, or…?”

“I don’t know,” Aphrodite admitted. “We could be.”

“What do you mean?” Typhaine asked frightfully. “I never heard of this virus before… is there a new epidemic in Europe?”

“I’m not sure.”

“But why did you read about this virus specifically?” Rebecca asked. “Why does it concern you at all? I don’t get it.”

“Well, many of the books in the offices’ bookshelves mention this virus, without ever giving a clear definition of what it is, so I was curious. During my research, I found out that the _Furantur_ virus wasn’t a natural virus. It has been artificially created in a scientific laboratory, by the GTU’s research department. More specifically, in this very place.”

“Here?” Typhaine echoed in terror.

“Holy shit!” Bob exclaimed. “So tha’s what them labs are for!”

“I understand why it concerns you now,” Rebecca said. “Oh god that’s scary.”

“But who would want to create such a horrible virus?” Typhaine asked, covering her eyes with her hands. “It must be an abomination onto the Lord! The scientists would risk eternal damnation!”

“People ain’t sweet, Typh,” Bob cut in, placing one elbow on the table. “I can see plenty o’ reasons why they’d want to create a virus like that, and none of’em are good.”

“Were you able to learn why this virus was created in the first place?” Rebecca asked.

“No,” Aphrodite admitted. “But I learned how it was used. Are you ready? This might come off as a shock.”

“I’m not ready!” Typhaine squeaked.

“I am,” Bob said seriously. “Lay it all on us.”

“Sure,” Aphrodite complied. “What I realized is that our understanding of the previous war was backwards. You see, ten years ago, there was an accident, and the virus began to spread in Lorient, causing people to die at an alarming rate. The situation was out of control, the patients were impossible to cure, and sometimes the doctors themselves would be affected, and would murder their colleagues or coworkers. It was utter chaos, and people were terrified. If the disease spread any further, it could potentially destroy the world: and that’s why the town was destroyed.”

“To prevent the virus from spreading any further,” Rebecca understood. “To kill the virus at the source, with all the citizens!”

“Oh no,” Typhaine said in anguish. “That’s so horrible!”

“So basically the ‘war’-” Bob began.

“...was nothing but a huge setup,” Aphrodite completed.

“At school, they would show us the videos of the bombing,” Rebecca said. “They would show the planes, and the city on fire, and all the people dying. But all of that… it was all fake?”

“Well, the citizens _did_ die,” Aphrodite stated. “It was very hard to keep track of who was infected and who wasn’t, so no one was spared. Multiple governments were working together on this conspiracy, which is how it hasn’t been found out to this day.”

“But people fled into the sewers,” Typhaine said worriedly. “They left all these weird messages on the walls, and everything.”

“And they all died,” Aphrodite concluded. “Because even if only one of them got out, the whole plan would be compromised. They might not be believed if they revealed the conspiracy for what it was, but they might carry the virus to another town, and the cycle of death would start once more.”

“Sheesh,” Bob commented, wincing. “So basically it’s all the GTU’s fault. Cuz they made that virus, and were too stupid to keep it in.”

“That’s horrible,” Typhaine whispered. “I feel so ashamed to be part of it now...”

“You had no way of knowing,” Aphrodite said reassuringly. “It was a very well-guarded secret, after all. Still, I wonder why our kidnappers allowed us to learn about it?”

“It could still be a lie,” Bob said cynically.

“If it is, it was a really well-crafted lie,” Aphrodite replied doubtfully. “If they wanted to lie to us, there were far more efficient ways to do it than writing so many fake books, which we weren’t necessarily going to read ourselves.”

“So it must be true then,” Rebecca concluded. “But wait, the killing game is being broadcast, right? Does that mean you just casually revealed a major conspiracy in front of the whole country?”

Aphrodite blinked.

“Uh. Maybe I did. It’s really strange when you put it like that, it feels like we’re in some kind of show.”

“We _are_ in some kind of show,” Bob said.

“It’s like reality TV, but with murders,” Rebecca said, shivering. “What a twisted concept.”

Of course, they all needed a moment to accept what Aphrodite had just taught them. It wasn’t every day you learned that your government had lied to you, about a war of all things. After a few moment, their conversation drifted off toward the killing game in itself, the show aspects and the cameras.

“I still can’t really process it,” Aphrodite admitted. “That all these people are watching us, listening to us. How much do they get to see? We know there are cameras everywhere, even the bathrooms. For all we know, we’re being filmed while we’re in the shower, for the whole country to see.”

“N-no way,” Typhaine said in panic. “That’s not possible.”

“That’d be really messed up, huh,” Bob said with a chuckle. “Maybe the viewers gotta pay an extra for the juicy bits?”

“Stop it!” Rebecca said indignantly. “That’s really not funny!”

“Eh, I dunno. ‘fter all we ‘been through, it wouldn’t even matter to me, y’know.”

He got up from his chair and glared at the ceiling, apparently looking for the camera.

“Hey viewers, ya hear that? Ya’d better pay a solid extra for my shower vids! I’m some high quality fanservice, meself!”

“Don’t give them weird ideas,” Typhaine mumbled, hiding behind her cap.

“How about we uh… speak about something else?” Rebecca asked. “Not something serious, or disturbing, or creepy, or… anything. I’d just like to relax for a bit.”

“Yes, that’s very good,” Typhaine agreed, nodding vigorously.

“I’ll write a note about my discoveries for the others when they come back,” Aphrodite said. “And then we can do something fun.”

Once she was done with her note, they all went to the sports store, and played ping pong for two hours and a half. No one came to bother them. They had a good time.

**

“I know you do not wish to hear this, but I cannot let that stand. Jordana Castillo, your earlier behavior was inexcusable, and I demand that you apologize to Florian as soon as possible!”

They were currently in the elevator room (first floor), which was still as messy as it had been the previous day. Jordana was nonchalantly seated on a crate full of clothes, while Ferdinand was standing up in front of her. Magalie was somewhere in the room too: opening one of the cardboard boxes, she was apparently looking for new clothes.

“It’s interesting that you would have me apologize to a brat who called you a murderer in front of everyone,” Jordana said, inspecting her nails. “Aren’t you even slightly angry about that?”

“That is not the issue, and you know it,” Ferdinand countered, folding his arms menacingly.

“Then what _is_ the issue, pray tell? Justice?”

“Respect,” Ferdinand almost spat.

“I have none of that, Ferdie. There’s no need to look, you won’t find any in me.”

He kneeled in front of her, glaring at her curiously.

“Why is that?”

“Hm? What do you mean?”

“It was a very curious statement,” Ferdinand explained. “Why would you say you hold no respect?”

“It’s part of my strategy,” Jordana replied with a conspirator’s smile. “Respect is all well and good, but not in killing games. To throw off my enemies, I have to be unpredictable, and always hit where it hurts. I have to teach them to fear me.”

Ferdinand shook his head.

“Such a strategy lacks nobility. I cannot accept it as an excuse.”

“But isn’t that strange, Ferdie? Isn’t it natural that I would want to survive at any cost? Surely you must feel the same.”

“There are other ways.”

“Of course there are. Like in any game, there are always going to be multiple strategies to achieving success. But you… you don’t even _think,_ do you?”

Ferdinand squinted at her.

“Are you calling me a simpleton? I thought I was the one scolding you.”

“I wasn’t exactly calling you a simpleton, no. I was targeting your strategy, or lack thereof. You’re too selfless, Ferdie. That kind of attitude will get you killed in no time.”

“I am still there though.”

“You were lucky,” Jordana countered, raising a finger, and tapping his nose. “Remember how you were accused of Julie’s murder? You didn’t even see it coming. Haha ‘see’ it coming. Unintentional pun there.”

“Well yes, but-”

Jordana didn’t let him finish and wrapped him in for a hug, messing with his hair.

“All I’m saying is that you should be a bit more careful. It’d be sad if you died, actually.”

“I was scolding you,” Ferdinand said desperately. “How did things end up like this? I cannot be mad at you any longer!”

“Behold, the great power of Jordana Castillo,” she replied with a fake evil laugh. “She’ll turn your head around before you realize what’s going on! Metaphorically speaking, of course.”

“I still hope you’ll apologize to Florian eventually, though,” Magalie said as she came back toward them, holding a pile of clothes. “I talked with him a few times, he’s far clumsier than mean.”

She put the clothes down.

“Can I participate with you on the sword training this time? I’ve always wondered how it felt to wave a sword. Or uh… cardboard tube, in this context.”

“Of course!” Jordana said cheerfully. “Don’t forget to be merciless with Ferdie, he actually enjoys being hurt.”

“I do not!” Ferdinand protested.

“Says the guy who shouted ‘my whole body is sore, I feel so alive!’ yesterday,” Jordana replied, rolling her eyes.

“Well yes, but actually...”

Since Ferdinand had nothing to say, they began to stretch, and then fought. Magalie wasn’t very athletic, but she was a pretty smart fighter: she used the reflections in the mirrors to predict her opponents’ moves, often managing to drive them into corners, and never hesitating to throw random objects at their face to distract them.

When they were done with training and after their shower, Magalie gave the duo a lecture on the history of music throughout the middle ages: the types of instruments that were used at the time, how to play them, and how music sheets were made. Jordana was enchanted by this new knowledge, and Ferdinand was happy to know more about “the lifestyle of the bards, any knight’s best friend”. Jordana commented that as the ultimate wanderer, he was closer to being a bard than a knight, which seemed to greatly offend him.

Meanwhile, Florian and Gwenn were exploring the second floor thoroughly. Or to be more accurate, Gwenn was attempting to explore the second floor, while Florian stomped the floor angrily and muttered curses.

“That _bitch_ , how dare she call me a rat? I’m nothing like a rat. Does she need some glasses? _Conasse d’Espagnole,_ I’ll fucking cut your mom open.”

Gwenn sighed.

“Normally I’d be all out for some good Jordana hate, but this is seriously getting on my nerves. Can’t we talk about something else?”

Florian looked unhappy about that, but he obliged.

“’kay. Uhm...”

He looked around himself. They had walked all the way to the AI room, and it seemed like he had finally realized where he was.

“Huh. What even _is_ all this?”

“Computers,” Gwenn replied stupidly. “For making AIs.”

“Why are the kidnappers giving us that?”

“They’re probably not giving it to us. It’s likely that it was already there, before we came.”

“Of course, I knew that.”

Florian was fidgeting, as if he wanted to do something but couldn’t quite find the courage to actually do it. He looked a little nervous.

“Say, are you okay?” Gwenn asked worriedly. “Did these videos from the outside upset you?”

Florian let out a little annoyed sound.

“Of course not,” he said a little too fast. “I already told you, I hate my family. They deserve to die, I’m not about to cry for them.”

“Uh. Okay I guess,” Gwenn said awkwardly. “But like, isn’t there anyone else in your life? Friends, maybe?”

Florian took a deep breath.

“No,” he said, sounding a little pained. “Did you seriously think I had _friends?_ With my insufferable personality? Haha, you wish.”

He let out a little chuckle, but it was clear he was feeling very uncomfortable. He looked like he was sweating a bit. Gwenn knew the signs: something was definitely fishy. They expected him to break into a panic attack at any moment.

“Dude, are you-”

“What about you Gwenn?” Florian asked very suddenly. “Is there someone out there, waiting for you?”

Gwenn blinked. The question caught them off guard. Florian seemed _extremely_ eager to get an answer.

“It’s kinda hard to say,” Gwenn added after a moment of uncomfortable silence.

“What do you mean it’s hard to say? It’s a simple question!”

“Well...”

Gwenn seemed to be at loss for word.

“I have a family and… well I had some friends, yeah.”

“Had?”

Florian was extremely confused, and Gwenn had apparently a hard time finding the right words.

“How do I explain this…? This experience, this killing game… it’s not something that happens twice in a lifetime. What I’m living now, it’s like… a gap, in the history of my life. If I survive, when I look back into it, I’ll never really be able to really believe it was real, y’know? And similarly… now that I’m _in_ the gap, it’s incredibly hard to believe anything _else_ is real. Does that make sense?”

“It… does,” Florian admitted slowly. “You bring up a fascinating point, actually.”

 _Oh good, he’s back to his normal self,_ Gwenn thought in relief.

“It’s like, hard not to dissociate, right?” they asked with a nervous smile. “The me from before would never have thought they’d go… well, it was “he” at the time. But yeah, I never expected I’d ever have to go through a kidnapping, the murder of my classmates, the investigations, the trials… that plus the change of name, I feel like I’m a completely different person now.”

“And should you escape, you would be greeting a completely different world too,” Florian added thoughtfully. “Most of the things we know, which used to be the norm, might no longer exist. It is… a troubling thought, to say the least.”

“It’s kinda impossible to wrap my head around it,” Gwenn admitted. “That’s why it’s weird to me how you could consider murdering someone to escape from this place.”

They extended their arms, pointing to all the computers and strange machines.

“No matter how much I hate it, this _is_ my world now, and it will remain my world until I’m allowed to get out, or die. This weird facility with its weird books, weird robots, and my weirdo classmates… they’re all that matters to me now. It’s like I’ve completely forgotten who I used to be.”

They turned their head toward Florian, anxiously.

“You think I will ever go back to the way I was?”

“I do not think you _should,”_ Florian replied, shaking his head. “Good or bad, the experiences you have lived in the past few weeks are part of who you are now. You can never go back, nor should you wish to.”

“I see. That makes sense.”

They spent a little while in silence, but it wasn’t an awkward one – they were both deeply thoughtful. Both had to admit they felt a little better than they had a while ago.

“Why are we even here?” Florian ended up asking. “I don’t even like computers.”

“Yeah, me neither. I was sorta hoping there’d be another garden on this floor, but that’s apparently not the case. Let’s just get out of here.”

**

Ryoji was sitting on a chair, somewhere, eating some food, probably. Everything was gray, or a similar color. There might be a window, there might be wind. He wasn’t all there, and he didn’t want to be: he had found a comfortable place at the corner of his mind, where he could sit back and enjoy everything from the spectator seat. Of course, being the spectator of one’s own life was a bit of a strange experience, but that was better than being at the driver’s seat. It was a terrifying place, the driver’s seat. There were too many emotions there.

Someone was talking to Ryoji, a gray person in a gray world – he wasn’t listening to them, whoever they may be. Their identity didn’t matter, the only thing that mattered were orders. If someone gave him an order, then he had to follow it: he didn’t want to cause any trouble, in case someone hurt him again. He could escape from mental pain, but not physical one, so he had to be a good boy.

“So how’s my favorite patient doing?”

A new voice, probably belonging to a man, Ryoji wasn’t sure. He couldn’t see him very well.

“Nothing new to report sir,” a woman replied. “He still rejects any attempts at communication, and medical treatments have failed. We’re still working on it.”

“Well, work harder my dear Helen! I wouldn’t want my favorite subject to be disqualified from the game so soon.”

Something stirred within Ryoji. _Game? Did he say game? Why does that word make me feel weird? It’s like it’s referring to something I’ve forgotten. Do I want to remember? There was…_

No, he didn’t want to remember, he decided: because it could hurt. Ryoji didn’t need to know any of this, he could remain at the back seat and stay ignorant, it was fine.

“What if no new change arises by tomorrow?” The woman asked from somewhere. “Should we release him anyway as planned?”

“Yes, I think so. We can’t keep him away from the others for too long. It wouldn’t be fair.”

“Understood.”

Ryoji was done with the food, he realized. He couldn’t remember what it tasted like. He wanted to sleep for a bit, but he’d have to wait until someone ordered him to. He couldn’t risk expressing his own wish: he was sure it would have some unwanted repercussions, like people being happy for him. For some reason, that thought terrified him.

“Can you hear me?”

That was the man again – he was watching Ryoji, maybe. Perhaps he was close, or perhaps a little distant, Ryoji wasn’t sure. His perception of reality was a little blurred.

“If you can hear me, remember this: you are doing great, if you keep playing the game the way you have so far, you’ll definitely be rewarded. I shouldn’t be telling you this, but what can I do? We all have our favorites.”

“Sir, that goes against protocol,” the woman said neutrally.

“True, but I’m the one who invented protocol,” the man replied, sounding a little disappointed. “All right, I’ll leave you to it. Have a nice evening, Helen.”

“Thank you sir. Good night sir.”

The woman got up, or maybe she had always been up.

“Do you want to go to your room?” She asked Ryoji.

That could be interpreted as an order, so he followed her: he lied down when she told him to lie down, and stared at the ceiling obediently.

 _He likes me,_ some part of his brain was saying. _What does that mean? Wasn’t there someone else who liked me?_

Unfortunately he fell asleep before he could remember.

**

Rebecca and Typhaine would be sleeping in the same room, for safety measures: it happened to be hospital room 103. Typhaine had wanted to be in Lucien’s apartment suite, but Rebecca had argued that there was only one bed, which would make things complicated. Originally they had been forced to share beds, but now that their numbers had decreased, they had the luxury of having one bed per person. It was a very weak silver lining to a depressing observation.

Bob was tucking Typhaine comfortably in her bed, which was once again nice of him, although a little unnecessary. Hope was sleeping next to her, purring very quietly. She felt exhausted, as if that one single day had been as long as a century. Bob, Aphrodite and Rebecca had been nice to her, but she felt like she didn’t deserve their kindness. After all, she had tried to send them all to the grave for Lucien’s sake. That plus the fact that merely _thinking_ about him was enough to make her burst into tears at any moment, she had been on edge all day. She fell asleep as soon as Bob turned the lights off.

Rebecca was sitting on the office chair, eyes glued to the screen. It never turned off, not even at night. A bombing was taking place, but Bob had no idea where or why.

“Hey,” he whispered. “Rebecca.”

She didn’t seem to hear him, so he put a hand on her shoulder – she jumped when his cold skin came in contact with her own.

“What is it?” She whispered back.

“Ya shouldn’t watch it. It’s just goin’ to give ya nightmares.”

Rebecca gave him an apologetic smile, but Bob only frowned in return.

“Can I speak with ya for a bit…?”

She nodded, and they both left the room quietly.

“Rebecca-” he began.

“I know, I know. I shouldn’t be watching it. It’s just what the kidnappers want, and I’m falling into their trap. I know.”

“It’s not what I was gonna say. Are ya okay?”

“No, not really.”

She looked at him, and he suddenly realized how big her eyes were. She looked scared, but also a little angry.

“I feel like you should be able to understand how I feel,” she said softly, as if she were speaking to herself. “In times of crisis, you know who tends to die first?”

“The weak and the poor,” Bob replied grimly.

“Indeed. Because no one really cares all that much about them when they have bigger worries to focus on. I assume you have a lot of people to worry about?”

“Yeah, some friends on the outside. My hopes for ‘em ain’t real high, I’ll admit. I assume your folks are poor too?”

“Yeah, they are. I used to be able to send them money regularly, but that’s no longer the case. And now I can’t even ask them if they’re doing okay or not. It’s...”

She trailed off. Bob sighed.

“Real tough, yeah. I know I’m s’posed t’tell ya that yer stronger than that and ya should trust in yer folks, but it’s worryin’ me too, big time.”

“We’re in the same boat here,” Rebecca said, looking at her feet. “I feel like this motive is targeting us specifically.”

“Yer not thinkin’ of actually killin’ sum’one tho, are ya?” Bob asked threateningly.

“No, of course not. It’s just… well, it hurts. And it’s going to keep hurting for a few days. I don’t know how to handle it.”

Bob scratched the back of his head.

“I feel bad for even suggestin’ it, on account of not bein’ Ryo, but like… wanna hug?”

“No, it’s fine. Thanks anyway Bob, you’re really kind.”

She gave him a last sad smile, and went back into her room to sleep. Bob sighed, and stared at the ceiling.

“Hey, I’ve tried, haven’t I? Sometimes, the universe just gotta give Bob a rest.”

And then he went to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, a chapter which was a little difficult to write. I feel like I gave you plenty of elements to theorize about. What were the GTU trying to achieve when they made the virus? What's the war all about? What do the posters in the AI room mean, and what are those cryptic messages on the graves? Rack your brains and try to figure it out, or just wait for me to lay down the answers eventually, either is fine. Anyway, whoever you are, thank you for reading this, I hope you're having a good day!


	38. Bagels, Horror Stories, and a Storm

Aphrodite was awake at 5am, as she often was. The air outside was damp, and the dust under her feet had seen some rain pretty recently. The sky was a dark shade of gray, heavy and threatening to burst. In the restaurant she found Florian, sat at the main table, alone. His hair was perfectly combed as always, his clothes were pristine, and he was holding his glasses with one hand. Like most of the men, his beard had recently gone out of control, which made him look more mature, and more disheveled than usual. He appeared to be lost in thoughts, and hadn’t heard her go in.

“Hi,” she said neutrally.

She expected him to ignore her, or say “hi” in return, perhaps lazily. She didn’t expect him to suddenly jump from his chair in shock, nearly falling to the floor in the process – and yet it happened.

“You!” He shouted, sweating. “What are you even _doing_ here?”

“I’m here to have breakfast. Do you want some?”

“Breakfast…?” He repeated distantly. “Is it already breakfast time?”

“Yes. The sun is up, it’s a new day. Have you not slept?”

“Uh… no, I don’t think I did. I’ll… I’ll go.”

He brushed past her quickly, shivering as he left the room.

_Okay. That was weird._

She took out her monopad and began to type.

[Aphrodite] If anyone’s awake, what do you want for breakfast?

She waited for a few seconds for an answer to pop up – as there were none, she put the monopad on the table, and began to count the floorboards to pass the time. Her thoughts began to drift away.

_I wonder if the war is connected to the killing game in any way. Lucien told us that the government was orchestrating it, so maybe it counts as a crime against humanity? That’d explain why so many countries are after France. I hope they win the war, if it can save us._

Her monopad buzzed twice. She turned it on to see two new messages.

[Aphrodite] If anyone’s awake, what do you want for breakfast?

[Jordana] The soul of the innocent

[Monoblade] The soul of the innocent!

She raised an eyebrow curiously.

[Jordana] Damn you Monoblade, it’s unfair to steal my jokes like that

[Monoblade] My bad

[Aphrodite] Jordana, does that mean you have the same sense of humor as a homicidal maniac?

[Jordana] You got me there.

[Aphrodite] Okay.

[Aphrodite] I guess I should make bagels then.

[Jordana] Do you even know how to make bagels?

[Aphrodite] I’ll make some sandwiches and dig a hole in the middle. If they end up tasting disgusting, I’ll make sure to blame you for it.

[Jordana] Do as you wish!

Aphrodite smiled to herself, and went to the kitchen to make “bagels”. She had never really understood the appeal of bagels, if she were honest. They were tasty, but pretty hard to eat without spilling the fillings everywhere. And the hole was downright unnecessary, so why was it even there? Still, it was the only suggestion she had received, so she felt like she might as well comply.

Jordana, Magalie and Ferdinand arrived only an hour later. By this point, Aphrodite had made way more bagels than was actually necessary. The first few looked a little sad, but she was a little more successful with the last ones. They tasted overall very decent.

“I actually don’t like bagels,” Jordana said when she sat at the table.

“Then feel sad,” Aphrodite replied neutrally. “I’m not making you anything else.”

Magalie chuckled.

“Then _feel sad,”_ she repeated. “That’s a powerful answer. I have to write it down somewhere.”

“I for one, feel very glad you took the time to make the food for us!” Ferdinand said enthusiastically.

“You’re welcome.”

Aphrodite gave him the uglier-looking bagels, because she figured he couldn’t really tell the difference, with his poor eyesight. She sat with her friends and began to eat.

“So what’s the plans for today?” She asked curiously.

Ferdinand, Jordana and Magalie exchanged a glance.

“We don’t know actually,” Magalie admitted. “We’re probably going to train again… and maybe do things, and stuff.”

“Hm. One of those mornings then?” Aphrodite asked.

“As much as it pains me to admit it, yes,” Ferdinand said dejectedly.

“To be fair, it’s getting harder and harder to keep busy. Everything can feel so… meaningless here.”

The three others nodded in ascent. Aphrodite looked through the door.

“A storm is coming. I think I’m going to watch it.”

“Watch the storm…?” Jordana repeated.

“You know, I could actually dig that,” Magalie said pensively. “Imagine gathering a bunch of blankets in here, and just chilling as we listen to the rain, drinking hot chocolate. Maybe telling a few ghost stories along the way.”

Ferdinand took a bite of his bagel, apparently considering the idea.

“I would not mind, admittedly. Sharing stories is something I did quite often on my travels… it shall remind me of the good old days, where I could roam the country endlessly. Going from village to village, being one with nature, enjoying a simple life in a peaceful world.”

He put a hand through his hair, staring down at the rest of his food.

“I should never have come here. My lifestyle was perfect, it was a mistake to give it up.”

“You couldn’t have known what would happen here,” Magalie said reassuringly. “Besides, we would never have met again if you hadn’t accepted the GTU’s invitation, right? I know it’s a bit of a weak consolation, but… I’m still glad we could fix our friendship.”

“Fix?” Jordana repeated curiously. “Was there something to fix?”

Magalie and Ferdinand exchanged an awkward glance.

“It matters not,” Ferdinand said firmly.

“If she wants to know, I might as well answer,” Magalie objected. “Though it’s not much of a story, honestly.”

“What happened?” Aphrodite asked, equally curious.

Magalie sighed.

“We were in middle-school when we met. Was it… la _sixième?”_

 _“_ _Cinquième,”_ Ferdinand corrected.

“Right. Doesn’t matter. Basically, we were both weird kids, and didn’t have many friends. So when we found each other, it was a huge relief for the both of us. To finally have someone to talk to, feel less alone…”

“It was a sweet time,” Ferdinand added. “No one bothered us, and we would not bother anyone. We were a little isolated, but happy regardless.”

“I can picture it,” Jordana commented thoughtfully. “A couple o’ weirdos, living in their own little world! So why did it go down?”

“It was my fault, actually,” Magalie explained. “It was only a few years later, the popular girls were starting to get an interest in me, for some reason. I guess I was a little less weird at the time, or just weird enough to pique their interest, who can say.”

“I was still fully weird though,” Ferdinand said. “Truly a man from a different timeline!”

“Indeed. And well, those popular girls wanted me to be a part of their group, but they wanted _nothing_ to do with Ferdinand. You know how reputation is everything in middle-school? They didn’t want to risk being seen with him. So they approached me when I was alone, asked me some questions, complimented my clothes, all nice things. I was curious, but they made it clear that if I wanted to be their friend, then I had to get rid of Ferdinand.”

“And you did?” Aphrodite asked, surprised. “I would have chosen to stay with him I think.”

“Same here,” Jordana chanted.

“No need to flatter me like that,” Ferdinand said, blushing.

Magalie sighed again.

“To be fair, I _should_ have chosen him. Even at the time, I think I knew I was making the wrong choice. But they offered to invite me to parties, to go shopping with them, among other very ordinary things… which I had never done before. I was curious and… I wanted to know what it felt like, to be popular. Just once.”

Her eyes drifted away for a moment.

“So what did you do?”

“I told Ferd we couldn’t be friends anymore,” Magalie admitted. “I was so nervous, I think I threw up afterwards.”

“You did?” Ferdinand asked curiously. “I do not remember that. For me you had never sounded so cold and determined before!”

“It’s probably the shock of betrayal, can’t really blame you there.”

Magalie tapped her fingers on the table.

“God, even just recalling this event, I feel a huge wave of shame. And it was seven years ago!”

“I have long since forgiven you, shall I add,” Ferdinand said solemnly.

“Well yeah, I fucking hope you did,” Magalie said grumpily. “Especially after you took your revenge several weeks later.”

“Revenge?” Jordana repeated. “I like the sound of that word. What did you do, Ferdie?”

“Uh...”

Ferdinand seemed highly embarrassed.

“Go on Ferd, please entertain them,” Magalie said mercilessly. “Please explain what you did to me back then, to _humiliate_ me in front of the whole school.”

“Oh lord, please protect me from her wrath,” Ferdinand said, nervously sweating.

“No lord can save you now!” Jordana chanted. “Just spit it out!”

“All right… you have to understand I was desperate at the time. Having lost my only friend, my whole world was crumbling! So uhm… I did not exactly plan a revenge, per se. I wanted to bring Magalie back, you see?”

“Oh no,” Aphrodite said. “I see where this is going.”

“Did you… make a speech?” Jordana asked.

“Indeed! A speech forged inside the very fire within my heart!”

“Which was excessively cringy, and which you yelled for the whole school to hear,” Magalie completed.

“You had to slap me to make me stop,” Ferdinand recalled with a laugh. “I did not even realize I was embarrassing you back then. I simply let my emotions speak.”

“In a way, that’s a sweet sentiment,” Aphrodite said pensively.

“But middle-school is a little nightmare world,” Jordana said deviously. “You essentially destroyed Magalie’s reputation that day, didn’t you? If it had been intentional on your part, it could even count as manipulation – with no one else to turn to, she could have come back to you.”

Ferdinand blinked.

“Manipulation?” He repeated. “I never realized...”

“Luckily, I was too damn stubborn to come begging for him to accept me again,” Magalie said, arms crossed. “But the rest of the year was… painful, to say the least. I was mostly alone for almost half a year.”

“And then what?” Aphrodite asked.

“Then we went to different high schools, and essentially never saw each other again until we arrived at the railway station this September. It was a pleasant surprise, to say the least.”

“I was so scared when I met you again,” Ferdinand confessed. “I was afraid you were going to bite me.”

“I don’t bite,” Magalie snapped. “It’s Florian’s thing.”

“Is it?” Aphrodite asked doubtfully.

“If you believe the rumor, Florian _does_ bite people,” Magalie explained. “I’m not sure where it comes from, but it’s a funny one, so I don’t mind spreading it.”

“Speaking of Florian, I saw him when I woke up this morning,” Aphrodite said. “He looked a little distressed, so I felt like I should help him, but I’m not the best when it comes to talking to people. Does any of you mind helping me with that?”

“I could!” Jordana chanted. “I’m great at shoving the truth in his face with no sense of _délicatesse!”_

“No, not you,” Aphrodite replied firmly.

“I would try, but I think he does not like me very much,” Ferdinand said, stroking his beard pensively.

“I’ll do it,” Magalie offered. “I talked to him a few times before, I think I know how his mind works.”

“Thank you,” Aphrodite said, nodding. “We’ll see if he comes around for lunch, and if not we’ll search for him then.”

**

Explosions, blood and ruins, those were everywhere in Rebecca’s nightmares. They usually started like this: she was outside, swimming in a river or a pool, when she would feel an overwhelming sense of heat on her back. Emerging from the water, she would find herself near a gigantic brazier, surrounded by corpse and dying people, running in every direction. She would hear shouts of reproach from her family members. _You had the water, you could have saved us. But you kept it selfishly to yourself._ _You’re responsible for our death._

She never knew what to answer to that. The most disturbing part about those dreams was the faces: she could always recognize her family members thanks to their voices, but their faces were always obscured in some way. Even after waking up, it was hard for Rebecca to recall what they actually looked like. It would take her a solid effort to remember their main features, and it would always feel _wrong_ somehow.

Truth be told, Rebecca didn’t have a great visual memory. She remembered names way better than faces, and sounds much easier than sights. But even so, that was worrying. She was afraid that after so much time spent in the facility, she was beginning to lose all ties to her family, or the outside world as a whole.

“Are you okay Rebecca?”

That was Typhaine’s voice. It was a very sweet voice, in fact. Sometimes Rebecca wondered how such a gentle and cute little woman had managed to do something so horrible as cutting a corpse to pieces, and accusing her classmates of murder to save her boyfriend. It hardly seemed to make sense.

“Yes, I’m fine. What time is it?”

“9am. I thought we could have breakfast soon?”

“Sure,” Rebecca said. “Gimme a moment to get dressed.”

Judging from the storm building up outside, Rebecca guessed that it would be a cold day, so she chose a large gray sweater and some baggy jeans, along with her favorite socks (they were blue and had a dolphin design). She left the room with Typhaine, and they went inside the neighboring room, where Bob was still resting.

“C’mon Bob,” she said, gently shaking him. “Time to get up.”

“I dun’t wanna,” Bob said lazily. “Dun’t feel like it.”

“Eh? You don’t want to get out of bed?”

“Wha’s the point anyway?” He asked miserably. “There’s nuthin’ to do but wait until someone else dies. We can’t do nuthin’ to prevent it, and we can’t do nuthin’ to escape. So wha’s the point?”

“Come on, don’t be like that!” Rebecca said with an exaggerate cheer. “You’ll feel better after breakfast.”

“Not hungry,” Bob mumbled. “’s okay, jus’ go without me.”

Rebecca was starting to feel annoyed. She found herself wondering what Lisa would do in this situation. The problem was, Lisa _never_ had to face those kinds of situations. From Rebecca’s point of view, Lisa was a person so full of energy that she could simply feed it to those around her without ever being drained. Like some kind of superpower.

But Rebecca herself was already drained. She didn’t know if she could even resist the appeal of going back to bed herself. Exchanging a glance with Typhaine, she noticed the other woman had been affected too, and was looking down in defeat.

“Okay, I get it,” Rebecca said eventually. “We’re going to have a self-care day.”

“What is that?” Typhaine asked curiously.

“It’s a day where we put all of our responsibilities aside, and do something nice instead. I suggest we start by talking about what’s weighing on our minds, all together. Then we can play a game or something, or just rest while we listen to some music.”

Typhaine seemed to ponder this idea for a moment.

“I wouldn’t mind,” she admitted.

“I’m okay with it if I don’t gotta get outta bed,” Bob said, stifling a yawn.

“All right!” Rebecca replied with forced enthusiasm. “Let’s get started then! Typhaine do you want to go first?”

“Sure,” Typhaine said uneasily.

She went to sit on the bed, then took a set of colorful strings from her pocket.

“It’s easier for me if I don’t have to stare at anyone while I do it,” she explained apologetically.

“Works for me,” Rebecca replied with a shrug. “You can start whenever you like. It can be long or short, do as you wish.”

Typhaine remained silent for a while, focused on making her bracelet. Rebecca took the opportunity to look at her a little more thoroughly – if they were going to become better friends, she wanted to remember what the girl looked like.

Typhaine’s pink hair dye had mostly vanished by now – there were still little traces of it every here and there, but the rest was at the juncture between blond and brown, almost gray in certain areas. Her eyes were a brownish green, her nose was exceptionally tiny and round. Her round eyes made her seem a lot younger than she actually was. Rebecca, who had always been a pretty face on a manly build, could only feel jealous of Typhaine’s thin and gracious body. She had nothing of the late Julie’s royal elegance, nothing of Suzie’s military stance, none of Jordana’s careless beauty and arrogance, nothing comparable to Lisa’s undying energy, and none of Aphrodite’s stone-cold neutral attitude. Typhaine’s body and demeanor could only evoke a little cat, young and excitable, but also very easy to scare. Rebecca felt the sudden strong need to protect her at any cost, and wondered if that was how Ferdinand felt all the time.

Silence stretched and grew seemingly endlessly. It sounded like Typhaine had completely forgotten that she was supposed to speak: but suddenly, out of nowhere, she asked:

“Has any of you read or heard about the play ‘McBeth’?”

“Nope,” Bob replied casually, as if the conversation hadn’t been interrupted for ten solid minutes of nothingness.

“I know the title, but that’s about it,” Rebecca admitted. “Why are you bringing it up now?”

Typhaine frowned.

“It’s a play from Shakespeare, which I read a long time ago. To be honest, it never impacted me a lot. I think I read it for school or something but… it’s been coming back to me recently.”

“Why?” Rebecca asked.

“In the story, McBeth and his wife plot to murder the king, so they can rule in his place. The murder plan is a success, but both of them feel really guilty for what they did. Lady Mcbeth often sleepwalks, and hallucinates a bloodstain on her hand, which she can’t get rid of, no matter how many times she washes it.”

“Poor gal,” Bob commented. “Must be tough.”

“I feel the same,” Typhaine said bluntly. “At all times, I feel as if my hands are still bloody from the time I...”

Her phrase was cut short by a violent shiver which almost threw her off the bed.

“Even now,” she confessed. “My hands still feel bloody and… sticky. Blood is sticky, you knew that? It’s disgusting, really disgusting.”

She looked at her hands doubtfully. Then she showed them to Rebecca.

“But they’re clean, aren’t they? There’s no blood anywhere!”

“No, there isn’t,” Rebecca agreed. “So you’re having hallucinations?”

“It’s like… the only comparison I can come up with is phantom pain. Y’know, it’s when people feel pain in a body-part they no longer possess? It’s kind of like that.”

“I… I see,” Rebecca said, a little concerned.

She wanted to add something else, but didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t a professional, and hadn’t the foggiest idea what kind of advice one was supposed to provide in these circumstances.

“So basically, that’s all I wanted to say,” Typhaine concluded. “Bob, your turn.”

“Uh… ‘kay I guess. Ya sure ya dun’t wanna add nuthin’?”

“No thanks.”

Bob cleared his throat, but before he could speak, Typhaine interrupted him.

“Actually I’m going to wash my hands, first. Sorry.”

“Eh? But your hands are clean,” Rebecca objected.

“Doesn’t matter. It’ll make me feel better.”

She came back a little while later, smelling of soap.

“Sorry Bob. You can begin now.”

“Okay.”

Bob cleared his throat again.

“Uh… wha’s weighing on my mind? Lessee here… well there’s Ryo obviously. He saved my life durin’ that last trial, but I really disappointed ‘im, and then he did that thing when he participated in the execution, and I jus’… froze. Had no idea what was going on. Even now, the memory of it is jus’ fuzzy, I think it’s cuz’ I don’t wanna remember it. I jus’ have this really _intense_ feeling in me that it was the wrong thing to do, t’send him out there.”

“Well of course, but it was his choice,” Rebecca said sadly. “And he still saved Typhaine’s life!”

“Yeah, but… he’s not _meant_ for that kinda stuff,” Bob said in an attempt to explain his thoughts. “He’s not that kinda dude, he’s meant to be treated carefully, or his sensitivity’s jus’ gonna get worse. It shoulda been someone else out there, someone more solid.”

“You?” Typhaine asked, maybe a little coldly.

“I dunno,” Bob said miserably. “I thought I was solid, but these last few days I’ve been a mess, I can’t even think straight. Aphrodite woulda been better, I think.”

“Bob,” Rebecca said softly. “Don’t blame yourself for feeling emotional. The person you love has been forced to physically torture one of his dying friends, then nearly died in an explosion, and he still hasn’t come back from the hospital. I’d honestly be a little concerned if you _weren’t_ upset by any of this.”

Bob sniffled.

“So it’s okay if I cry a bit, then?”

“Of course. You’ll feel better afterwards. I think.”

Bob let himself go for a bit, crying silently, and sniffling occasionally. He was hugging the blanket like a drowning person hanging to a life preserver. When he was done, he pulled himself in a sitting position, rubbing his eyes.

“’kay, I’m okay now. Thanks gals, y’all are really understandin’ people. It warms my heart, it does.”

“You’re welcome Bob,” Rebecca replied with a smile.

“Yes,” Typhaine added, a little distantly.

“Well, ‘s yer turn t’speak now, ain’t it Becca?”

“I don’t really want to talk actually,” Rebecca explained politely.

“Eh? But ya said-”

“More importantly, we have delayed breakfast for long enough, but we’d better go if we don’t want to miss it!”

“Uh… I guess. Ya’ll talk later tho, right?”

“Of course. C’mon, the others are waiting for us.”

**

Aphrodite and Magalie spent a while looking for Florian in the facility and its extended grounds. They found Gwenn in the garden, but even they seemed to have no idea where the boy had gone to. After a thorough inspection, Aphrodite ended up finding him in the first torture room, looking through the closet.

Entering that room felt strange. It was where Bertrand had died: a little hole in the ground was the only reminder of the file which had impaled him. All the weapons had been removed from the rack, and the closet only contained common medicines. It no longer looked like a torture room, but like a weird purposeless room: the impression was made even stranger by the radiant sun which had been painted onto the table by Bertrand himself, back when he worked to redecorate the facility.

Naturally, Florian jumped when he saw Magalie and Aphrodite coming in.

“What on earth are y-you two even doing here? Do you want to lock me in?”

“No you moron,” Magalie replied dryly. “We just want to talk to you.”

“If that’s okay with you,” Aphrodite added politely.

Florian’s eyes narrowed behind his glasses.

“Is that so?” He asked, trying to sound calm and composed, yet incapable of hiding his nervousness. “What could you _possibly_ wish to discuss with me? Oh, do not tell me, I think I have a theory. You suspect one of us is plotting a murder, and you wish to consult with my intellect so I may confirm or infirm your theory, yes?”

He looked at Aphrodite and Magalie expectantly, but Magalie only sighed, and Aphrodite shook her head.

“No,” she said bluntly. “We’re here to talk about you.”

“M-me?” Florian asked, taken aback. “Why would you… wait, I know! You want me to apologize to someone, isn’t that right?”

“Flo, calm down,” Magalie said quietly. “Let us speak before you assume what we want to talk about, okay? We discussed this already.”

“Why do you call me ‘Flo’?” Florian replied, pointing a finger at her. “Nicknames are for friends, and we’re not friends!”

Magalie blinked.

“Okay,” she said.

She turned toward Aphrodite, folding her arms.

“He’s definitely acting weird, right? I mean, weirder than usual.”

Aphrodite nodded. Florian suddenly looked very uncomfortable.

“It’s impolite to speak ill of someone who’s still in the room,” he wailed. “I you are here to gossip, then at least let me leave.”

“Who says we’re stopping you?” Aphrodite asked curiously. “The door is still open.”

For some strange reason, he didn’t move.

“Fine,” he ended up saying. “I give up, do whatever you like.”

“Give up?” Magalie repeated. “Give up on what?”

“Wow, you’re all over the place today,” Aphrodite commented. “What’s troubling you so badly? I’d like to help you if I can.”

“Why should I tell you anything?” Florian asked, this time (unsuccessfully) trying to hide his nervousness behind a thin veil of arrogance.

“Because most people agree that confiding your problems to others is one of the easiest ways to solve them, or at least ease them a little,” Aphrodite explained patiently.

“It’s really not that complicated,” Magalie added with a sigh.

Florian remained silent for a little while. He seemed to be thinking intensely: slowly his demeanor changed. His back became more rigid, his arms fell flat to the sides of his body, and his face stopped conveying any emotion whatsoever.

“If you want the truth, you can have it. I am afraid to die,” he said flatly.

“Okay,” Aphrodite replied. “Go on.”

“Most of the people here have a very good motive to kill, and a very good reason to hate me. Despite all the opportunities I have been given, I did not improve my behavior during the last few weeks. I have been unnecessarily mean to everyone. It is reasonable to assume I could die today, or tomorrow, or the day after. I am very afraid, and do not know how I can protect myself efficiently.”

“Okay,” Aphrodite repeated.

“Why do you uh… speak like a robot now?” Magalie asked, sounding uncomfortable. “It kinda creeps me out.”

“It is the truth,” Florian said flatly, ignoring her. “Now, are you satisfied? May I leave the room?”

Without waiting for an answer, he walked toward the exit. Aphrodite caught his sleeve.

“Florian,” she said softly. “Don’t give up.”

“Why are you telling me that?”

“I won’t say your fear is completely unreasonable, since we’re in a killing game, but we don’t hate you as much as you think. You’re not alone here – if you need help, we can help you. You just have to ask for it.”

“I don’t need your pity” he spat with an angry snort, suddenly shifting his demeanor again.

Aphrodite folded her arms, and glared at him coldly.

“Are you sure about that? You admit to being afraid, but you shove my hand away when I offer to help. That’s a completely illogical course of action. I don’t know what you’re trying to achieve exactly, but you won’t get anywhere if you keep behaving like a child.”

“Wh-” Florian began, clearly taken aback.

“You know, I’m starting to believe your worst enemy is yourself here,” she added mercilessly. “You push self-loathing to the point of thinking that you’re not good to anyone, but you don’t do anything to improve.”

“Hey!” Florian shouted furiously. “How dare-”

“Am I wrong?”

Florian was left speechless. He looked like a man who had been slapped three times in a row.

“May I add something?” Magalie chimed in.

“Sure,” he said miserably.

“By acting all scared and paranoid, you’re just playing Jordana’s game. She’s trying to do to you the exact same thing she did to Alexander. Don’t fall for her trap.”

Florian’s eyes widened in anger.

“What?” He asked, clearly shocked. “Oh my- fuck! I never realized that!”

“You’re not going to let her win that easily, are you?”

“Of course not. She’s… she’s going to regret underestimating me!”

“Right. That’s the spirit, I guess.”

Florian stomped out of the room, apparently ready to smash a wall with his bare fists.

“I think that went well,” Aphrodite commented.

“He didn’t tell us the whole truth though,” Magalie deplored.

“He didn’t?” Aphrodite asked, clearly surprised.

“Come on, he was obviously lying. That super stoic attitude he had earlier? It’s a major red flag. He’s definitely hiding something. Not that I think the whole paranoia story is fake, mind you.”

“His attitude strongly suggests that it’s true, after all. And I don’t think he’s that good a comedian.”

“Yep. But I wonder… could he be planning a murder?” Magalie asked suspiciously “We’d better keep an eye on him.”

“If you say so,” Aphrodite replied with a shrug.

**

Afternoon came. Magalie had suggested that everyone met in the second apartment suite to tell some scary stories, and all her classmates had agreed to come, except for Florian, who said he needed to spend some time alone (Magalie frowned at that, but didn’t insist). The storm was raging outside, rain was pouring as heavily as a shower, and the wind was shaking the trees, even making the buildings creak ominously. Aphrodite and Bob had gathered as many blankets and pillows as they could, while Rebecca made hot chocolate for everyone. They all sat comfortably in the bedroom (but not in a circle, because it reminded them too much of class trials). Hope, apparently very curious about this mysterious gathering, decided to rest on Typhaine’s lap, apparently determined to not move a muscle for the whole duration of the event. She didn’t seem to mind.

Aphrodite was standing in front of the window, whipped by the rain as if the wind wanted to shove all the water in her face. It made her feel strangely powerful. Lightning colored the landscape white for a short moment, quickly followed by a deep rolling of thunder.

“Wow. Talk about an end of the world atmosphere,” Magalie commented.

“I’m definitely glad we’re inside,” Gwenn agreed, taking a sip of hot chocolate.

They looked a little nervous, wrapping themselves in a thick purple blanket.

“So who goes first?” They asked a little shyly. “Try to not go too hard on the scary stuff, that shit gets to me quite easily.”

There was a short silence.

“I suppose I could start,” Magalie said with a shrug.

She took a sip of hot chocolate.

“I don’t know if it really counts as a scary story though. Do you guys know what an _exemplum_ is?”

No one seemed to know except for Aphrodite.

“An _exemplum_ is a term used in medieval history, to refer to a short story meant to be told during a sermon. Imagine your local priest teaching his people that greed is bad: to illustrate his point, he’ll tell the story of a baker who stole a bag of flour from his rival baker, and who then later died, choked by a demon.”

“I dun’t see the connection,” Bob admitted.

“Basically, it’s a short story whose goal is to teach good morals?” Jordana asked.

“Exactly. Some of them are boring, but others pertain mystical elements from the christian faith, which pretty much sounds like fantasy and fairy tales to us nowadays. They’re basically the closest thing to a horror story the medieval church could produce, I thought it’d be fun to share one.”

“But are the stories real or made up?” Gwenn asked.

“It’s hard to tell,” Magalie replied. “They present themselves as the truth, but are often too improbable to be real. Still, they could always be inspired by real events… it’s hard to draw the line.”

“Well, why don’t you go ahead?” Aphrodite asked. “I’m always one to enjoy medieval church shenanigans.”

Magalie nodded, and began to tell the story of a common peasant who wanted to cheat his way to eternal salvation by keeping the ‘body of the Christ’ (as in, bread from the mass) close to his heart at all times, by sewing it to the inside of his vest. Then she told in vivid details how hordes of ugly demons would haunt his every day life: destroying his crops, beating his wife, robbing him of his eyesight, punishing him day and night for his sin. Only ten years later, the poor farmer admitted his sin to the local priest, who ordered him to give the host back at once.

“But when they tore his vest open, the bread had completely turned to flesh,” Magalie revealed dramatically.

“Wow!” Typhaine screamed in shock. “No way!”

“That’s disgusting,” Gwenn commented, getting a little green. “To imagine having _that_ in your clothes at all times?”

“Well, medieval monks probably didn’t think it was all that disgusting,” Magalie said thoughtfully. “Miracles involving hosts turning to flesh are rather common in medieval exempla – and it _is_ supposed to be the body of the Christ. Usually the flesh is kept somewhere as a holy relic.”

“Wow. Ain’t that a lil’ messed up?” Bob asked, half-disgusted half-amused.

“To us, it may be. But it’s mostly a question of cultural perception. You have to recall that the Christian faith was much stronger at the time and better implanted in society – it’s no wonder they didn’t have the same perception regarding such things.”

“Well, I guess you learn a new thing every day,” Gwenn said glumly. “Still… major yikes.”

“Oh my sweet summer child,” Magalie giggled. “Medieval history can be so much worse! There’s another exemplum where a young maiden digs her own eyes out to avoid losing her virginity, and-”

“It’s okay, it’s okay, I get it, no more please!”

Magalie laughed, and Ferdinand offered to move on by telling his own story. It had taken place during one of his trips to Italy: one of the friends he traveled with bought an old doll from a city market, and started having weird hallucinations after that. He would see dead people, hear strange voices, among other paranormal occurrences.

“But when we went to the doctor, they said my friend was perfectly fine!” Ferdinand was shouting. “No illness, no drugs, it was all genuine!”

“No way,” Typhaine replied, eyes wide in shock.

“It is the truth!”

“He was just pulling your legs,” Gwenn objected. “...right?”

“Who knows?” Jordana chanted.

Aphrodite classified Ferdinand’s story as ‘excessive leg-pulling’ in her mind, but before she could think about it some more, it was already Jordana’s turn. Unsurprisingly, Jordana had to stand out from the rest of the group: instead of simply telling the story, she sang it. She had apparently written the lyrics herself, and the plot was completely made-up. It wasn’t about ghosts, monsters or zombies, but about real life problems – as always, it made most of the assembly cry, because of how beautiful her singing was.

Bob told his classmates about a ‘hobo myth’ if you could call it that: a set of streets in Paris were supposedly ‘cursed’, and anyone who ventured through them would be cursed with bad luck for the following week.

“And you really believe that?” Aphrodite asked.

“Not sure I do, t’be honest with ya. But y’know, a hobo’s life is filled with enough bad luck as it is, so… I dun’t go ‘n those streets if I can avoid it. Just ‘n case, y’know?”

“That makes sense,” Aphrodite agreed with a nod.

Gwenn told a story which they had read from a book a while ago. Halfway through, they realized that they had forgotten how the story went, and hastily improvised a happy ending. Typhaine, Jordana and Rebecca cheered for the effort, though Jordana’s cheer sounded a little _ominous_ , as most things Jordana did.

Typhaine was too scared of horror stories to tell one herself – but since she didn’t want to ruin the game, she just told a different kind of story. She parodied _the Little red riding hood_ , adding a twist where the heroine (who conveniently happened to be an attractive soup-maker) became friends with the wolf and hosted a tea-party with her grandmother. It wasn’t anything extraordinary, but it was pretty sweet in itself, and Gwenn and Ferdinand seemed to appreciate it quite a lot.

Rebecca didn’t have any inspiration, so she summarized a horror movie she had watched with a friend a while back. The only problem was: she had fallen asleep midway, and had only woken up in time to watch the end. Since she didn’t feel like improvising like Gwenn had, she offered the others a challenge: whoever imagined a satisfying story to fill the gap would obtain a fresh home-baked cupcake as a reward. Everyone tossed various ideas, which were all interesting in their own ways. Rebecca concluded that she’d have to make cupcakes for everyone, which was accepted with a cheer.

Aphrodite came last: suddenly every eye was on her.

“You turn Phro!” Magalie (the unofficial ruler of this storytelling meeting) said. “What do you have to tell us? I admit, I’m very curious.”

“Indeed, so am I,” Jordana added mysteriously.

Aphrodite looked at the ceiling pensively.

“I have a story,” she said after a while. “I don’t know if it counts as ‘horror’, but it’s definitely a big mystery.”

“Oh?” Gwenn asked. “What is it?”

“It’s about my dad. I never told you about him?”

No one replied, so Aphrodite decided it was probably a ‘no’.

“Well, my dad was the ultimate astrophysicist. A genius on the field, he won many awards and prizes, some of you may have heard of him. Truthfully, he wasn’t a very good person. Rude, selfish, a bit of a homophobe, I think he cheated on my mom a few times, but that’s besides the point.”

She took a moment to collect her thoughts, as if she wondered what was the best way to tell the rest of the story. She chose the simplest approach.

“One day, he vanished. He was a very famous person, as I already said, so it’s not like it’s easy for someone like him to disappear without a trace. But he did. He was on a trip, and then he was gone. To this day, I still have no idea what happened to him.”

Her story was welcomed with an odd silence.

“Y’know, it’s weird that yer tellin’ me that,” Bob said thoughtfully. “Cuz ya know what? Ryo’s dad disappeared in pretty much the same way!”

“Did he now?” Aphrodite asked curiously. “That’s strange.”

“Yeah, Ryo told me some days ago. His dad was a bit of a dick too, never home and not carin’ much for his kids. He wasn’t an ultimate, but one day he just… popped out of existence, and the police didn’t even find a corpse.”

“I didn’t know it was even still possible for people to disappear like that,” Gwenn commented. “With the technology we have for tracking people these days, and everything.”

“Yeah but for Ryo’s dad, it was a while back,” Bob corrected. “Before the war, I reckon.”

“Interesting,” Aphrodite said.

Typhaine suddenly got up from the floor, waking up a very confused cat, who fell on all four and trotted away from the room. She ran toward the window, placing both hands against the glass.

“It’s the helicopter,” she said in shock. “Ryoji is back!”

“Ryoji?” Ferdinand repeated. “But with the storm outside, it would be far too dangerous to go fetch him! What are they even thinking?”

Aphrodite suddenly realized she should be doing something about Bob: if he ran outside with the weather in this state, he could be in danger.

But of course, she was too late. Bob had already run away from the room, knocking his own cup of hot chocolate as he went, and was probably down the stairs by now.

“Shit,” she commented, slightly worried. “I hope Ryoji’s okay.”

**

Bob was outside in the rain before he could even realize what was going on. He had rarely felt heavier rain in his entire existence: it wasn’t even like a shower, it was a cold waterfall pouring onto his face. The ground was muddy, but the asphalt underneath the dust kept him steady enough not to fall.

The helicopter looked a shade of grayish blue in the dim atmosphere. It was a very large machine, similar to the fighting helicopters on the TV broadcasts. It even had some large guns.

The door opened, and Ryoji came out, followed by a nurse. Bob realized he was out of breath and shaking. He took a moment to calm himself, breathing slowly. He repressed the urge to run into the helicopter and jump into Ryoji’s arms. Too soon.

Ryoji was ordered to jump down from the helicopter, and so he did. The nurse said something, but Bob couldn’t hear any of it because of the rain. Apparently she was talking to Ryoji, but he didn’t seem to be listening. His face was completely impassive, which made him look oddly serious in the circumstances. He was wearing one of the strange tight prison uniforms, but this one was a little thicker than the usual ones, and had more pockets. He had been amputated again: his left hand only had three fingers left.

At some point, the helicopter departed, but Bob hardly even noticed it. His eyes were drowning in Ryoji’s. He had no idea what to say – in fact, if he even wanted to say anything, he’d probably have to yell, but he didn’t want to. So Bob did the only thing that came to his mind, and let himself fall into Ryoji’s arms, wrapping him in a tight hug.

“I love ya,’ he whispered, knowing he wouldn’t be heard. “Damn, I’ve been needin’ to say that for too long.”

**

Everything was always gray, but on this day it was even grayer than the usual. Ryoji’s clothes felt very heavy because of the rain. The wind was whipping him aggressively, and he felt cold. All those sensations were very unwanted, except for the sounds. The storm was so loud, it nearly covered all the other sounds. That was nice. Ryoji didn’t want to hear anything, he didn’t like paying attention to the gray world. Gray was such an ugly color.

A gray man was hugging him, he was apparently trying to say something, but Ryoji didn’t hear. Ah, to not be able to hear any sounds: that was the definition of happiness. He would stay in this place forever if he could: but soon some other words came, this time the gray man yelled them. Ryoji was quite certain he had heard an order, and he couldn’t ignore a direct order. Unfortunately, he’d have to abandon the storm. He followed the gray man toward a door, let him take care of changing his clothes, washing him, giving him more clothes, feeding him, putting him to bed.

This wasn’t so bad: this gray man seemed to respect his silence, unlike all of the annoying gray people from before. What did they look like again?

Ryoji didn’t remember. He sank in the mattress, neutrally staring at the gray ceiling. In truth, he wasn’t really looking at it – he was looking on the _inside_ , on a world full of radiant colors. It was the best world of the two, and the one Ryoji enjoyed the most. The world of his own mind, where he had locked himself up. It was a good place truly, perhaps a little lonely-

But that was a problem for later.


	39. Tension

It was the last day before the time limit for the war motive ran out. As such, all the students were eyeing each other suspiciously. Jordana was kept under close watch by Magalie and Ferdinand, and Rebecca was asked not to leave Typhaine even for a second. Aphrodite took care of looking after Florian – since he didn’t know what to make of her, he tried to teach her the complex art of flower arranging. For an amateur, she wasn’t so bad, but of course he had to act all superior and disdainful about it. Thankfully, Aphrodite didn’t seem to care.

Bob never left Ryoji’s side. He quickly realized Ryoji only obeyed direct orders, and didn’t listen to anything else. Since words couldn’t reach out to him anymore, Bob only hoped that physical contact would: he often held his hand tightly, hoping that somewhere, Ryoji was feeling it, and would eventually respond. Typhaine told him that Ryoji had hugged her once when they were in the hospital room – that meant all hope wasn’t lost. Bob was holding onto that fraction of hope, but couldn’t hide his pain.

Ferdinand was the only one who managed to remain upbeat throughout the day. He kept screaming random pieces of encouragement to all those he met, calling them “mighty heroes” and “shiny knights”. Jordana seemed to appreciate.

But the day went without any trouble. When it was time for sleep, Rebecca tucked Typhaine into her bed (‘Why does everyone have to treat me like a child?’ Typhaine wondered) and went to sleep. Her bed was right next to the TV screen, which would never turn off: her attention was caught by the screen. The footage showed a group of people trying to destroy a building, and being mercilessly killed. She once again thought about her family – were they okay? Had they managed to flee the country? Had they joined the resistance? In a way, that would make her proud, but she’d rather have them safe.

After half-an hour, she felt her eyes burning, and decided to turn around. But no matter how much she tossed and turned, sleep wouldn’t come to her. Exasperated, she ended up leaving her bed. Wearing a coat over her nightgown, she left her room and went to the parking lot, so she could breathe a little fresh air. It was an especially cold night. Lorient was dull and boring during the day, but the moonlight shining on the ruined buildings gave it a strange mystical aura, which filled Rebecca with courage.

She felt her steps leading her to the inside of the restaurant, where she was shocked to find Jordana, alone. She was still wearing her daytime clothes (a very elegant pink dress which looked a little like a kimono) and sipping tea from a mug where the word “queen” had been written in a Gothic font.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Rebecca shouted. “You’re supposed to be accompanied at all times!”

“Oh hi,” the other girl replied with a serene smile. “You want some tea?”

“No I don’t want some bloody tea! I want you to go back to your room!”

“Relax, girl, I won’t hurt anyone. Why don’t you take a seat?”

Rebecca sat on a chair across from Jordana, folding her arms angrily.

“I can’t believe you,” she fumed. “What are you planning this time?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to spend some time alone. If Ferdinand and Magalie really wanted to prevent me from leaving the room at night, they should have handcuffed me to the bed.”

“Yeah, they should have!” Rebecca replied angrily. “You can be sure that that’s what we’re going to do next time!”

“My, you’re so angry Rebecca. How come?”

“How come? Don’t play dumb with me! If I hadn’t found you, you’d have killed someone!”

Jordana shook her head.

“Wrong. I didn’t plan to kill anyone.”

“Oh right, and I’m supposed to just believe you?”

“Use your brain, fish girl,” Jordana said, shaking her head slightly. “This motive isn’t meant for me at all. Money? I’m the ultimate singer, I don’t need _money!_ As for my family and friends, if they’re responsible for their own well-being. If they’re not strong enough to protect themselves, then they deserve to die. That’s how it’s always been.”

“You could be bullshitting me, for all I know. Why would I trust any of what you say?”

“It’s your choice. I don’t really care what you think.”

Rebecca didn’t know what to reply to that. It was annoying that Jordana was so pretty, because it disrupted her concentration from what she was trying to say. And by the heavens, why was she drinking tea at such an absurd hour? It was probably 3am or something!

“I don’t understand you at all.” Rebecca heard herself saying. “How do you even live like this? Only thinking of yourself, treating people like… variables. Like a percentage! Do you have no heart?”

“That is a pointless question,” Jordana said calmly, but Rebecca ignored her.

“And why did you try to murder Lisa?” She shouted aggressively. “She was so nice, she was so strong too, and she had saved our lives twice before! She never did anything to offend you, did she? So why did you hate her so much? I just don’t understand.”

“Once again, use your brain, girl. Lisa proved that she was more than capable of solving class trials – any would-be murderer had to get rid of her if they wanted a chance to survive. It had to happen sooner or later! But if you must know, I didn’t mean to kill Lisa that night.”

“What? Of course you were, you set that trap in the robot room! You think you can fool me that easily?”

“I _did_ set up the trap, but I wasn’t planning to go through with it. Come on, seriously? It wouldn’t have fooled anyone.”

“Huh? But then why...”

“You’re not very bright, are you?” Jordana asked, like a teacher trying to confront a particularly slow child. “Experience has shown that killers rarely survive class trials: the odds seem to be against them. My objective isn’t to kill myself, but to have others kill each other – because each person to die is less of a threat to me. And if I want to achieve that, then creating an environment of fear and paranoia would be good for me, don’t you think?”

“But that’s just stupid. You could easily be the next victim!”

“Well, hardly. I’m under constant watch after all.”

“Not when you stupidly wander at night, no you’re not.”

“To be fair, none of us is safe at night,” Jordana said with a shrug. “So it’s no like it changes anything.”

Rebecca sighed.

“I thought you had changed. I thought you were a better person now. But you’re still the same, aren’t you? You never cared about any of us.”

“That’s not necessarily true,” Jordana argued. “In other circumstances, we could probably have been friends. But in a situation like this, my life comes first. It only makes sense: we’re only issued one life, and I’m not going to waste it.”

“Lucien used to think differently.”

“Yes, but he broke his own principles, twice in a row,” Jordana replied, rolling eyes. “In the end, he acted selfishly, and if he had been a bit more clever, he would have gotten away with it. But he tried to defend his own life, and his own reputation… that’s something I can respect, I think.”

“Why?” Rebecca repeated. “It doesn’t make sense to me.”

“I suppose it’s a question of values,” Jordana replied thoughtfully. “I expect any of us to defend their own existence at all cost: whoever follows that philosophy makes a respectable opponent.”

“A respectable opponent,” Rebecca repeated blankly.

Earlier she had been confused and scared, but suddenly she felt oddly calm, like she were in total control of the situation. Her hands were resting on the table in front of her, perfectly still.

“You don’t like that word, do you?” Jordana asked delightfully. “Does it irritate you?”

“You treat us like some kinds of pieces on a chessboard,” Rebecca said neutrally. “Like this is all some kind of game?”

“But this _is_ a game. A game with high stakes, but a game nonetheless.”

“And you’re afraid to die?”

“Aren’t we all?” Jordana asked curiously.

She finished her cup of tea, and left the room, leaving Rebecca alone with her thoughts. She didn’t know how any of that made her feel. Hopeless? Lost? Confused?

No, she was angry.

_How dare she speak to me like that?_ _Oh you think you’re so smart, with your little strategies, your little games. You’re pathetic Jordana._

Rebecca’s whole body was hot with fiery rage, from her fingers to the tip of her hair. Jordana had been treating her like a child, like an ignorant moron. Clearly, she wasn’t afraid of Rebecca. But Rebecca thought about this disgusting philosophy, and then back to the war, and then back to her parents, and then it was too much. She got up so suddenly that her chair fell to the floor, but she didn’t pay attention to it. She left the room, and went back into the parking lot, where Jordana was still walking.

“Hey, Jordana!” Rebecca shouted, feeling a strange sense of joyous anger coursing through her. “For someone so smart, you can be very stupid, you know?”

Jordana didn’t turn around, and began to walk faster – but Rebecca was already running. It was over in an instant. Rebecca grabbed Jordana’s arm to stop her from running, then lifted her from the collar of her dress.

“It’s not very strategic to anger someone who’s so much stronger than you, is it?” She asked, her voice dripping with barely contained pleasure.

“Are you going to kill me?”

“I have a better idea.”

Then Rebecca slammed Jordana’s body against the nearest wall, knocking her out instantly. It was ridiculously easy to do: suddenly she was hanging limp from her hand, like a useless doll. Rebecca ran to the kitchen, carrying the woman with one hand. She went through the secret door, entered the graveyard, and walked inside the sports store. She then unceremoniously dropped the woman to the floor, looking through the shelves with curiosity. There were lots of interesting weapons there… which one would she choose? The dumbbells could probably get the job done, but she felt like the javelins would be cleaner, so she picked one and dropped it on the floor. Next, she ran out of the store. She didn’t even bother to tie Jordana up – she knew the girl wasn’t going to wake up in a while. The next part of her plan was tricky, but the adrenaline was pushing her forward, and she didn’t think about all the problems that she could face.

Back in the eastern wing, she stealthily opened the door to room 104. Bob was sleeping soundly, but Ryoji wasn’t. His eyes were wide open, and fixed on the ceiling. Rebecca crouched next to his bed, and whispered into his ear:

“Come with me. Don’t make a sound.”

And Ryoji did. He left his bed, put the covers back into place, and left the room. He walked quietly alongside Rebecca, looking as blank as before. She was no longer running: she had all the time in the world. Parking lot, restaurant, kitchen, they were all over in a flash. Ryoji had a tough time going through the back-door in the kitchen, but he eventually managed. Then they were in the graveyard, in the street, and in the sports store, next to Jordana’s unconscious body.

“There we are,” Rebecca said. “Can you see this, Ryoji? Or are you so far gone that none of this makes any sense to you anymore?”

Ryoji didn’t respond. His eyes were dead and empty, they didn’t seem to see anything.

“Just as I thought,” Rebecca said sadly. “You don’t even realize what’s going on anymore. I could tell you my plan in details, and you wouldn’t realize what it means.”

There was a moment of silence. Ryoji was as still as a statue. Rebecca grabbed his shoulder, forcing him to make eye-contact.

“Ryoji, I’m going to kill you and frame Jordana for murder,” she said, almost pleadingly.

But Ryoji’s face was like a bear’s: devoid of any expression. Could it be that he didn’t care about anything anymore? Was he going to meet his death in silence, without a shred of regret? Without even a scream?

“Bob is going to hate me,” Rebecca said grimly. “But what does it change? You’re not there anymore. I can’t kill someone who is already dead.”

She hugged him once last time, patting his shoulder. He was warm and smelled of soap, from the last time Bob had washed him. He didn’t move, or react to her embrace in any way. She could hear his heartbeat: it was extremely slow. If she needed another proof that he didn’t know or didn’t care about what was going on...

_No, he does know. If he can understand my orders, he understands everything I_ _say_ _. He knows I’m about to kill him, and he doesn’t care._

Rebecca let him go. She grabbed the javelin which she had previously dropped on the floor. It was sharp and light: she could probably fit it through Ryoji’s neck. That way, he wouldn’t suffer. Maybe she could later cut her own arms and spill some of the blood on Jordana, so that the others would think she had done the crime.

“Okay, I’m ready,” she said, turning back toward Ryoji. “Get on your knees.”

He did as he was told, still as obedient as a dog. He didn’t look at her, but looked at the floor instead. She tried to forget all the times she had spent with him, all the nice memories she had of this man.

“He’s… he’s already dead,” she told herself. “It’s not technically killing, if you kill someone who’s… not there, is it?”

Ryoji didn’t reply.

“I’m doing this for my family,” she added to give herself some courage.

Still no reaction.

“I’m doing it for my family!” she yelled. “Because I love them, and I don’t want them to die! Because I’m nothing without them!”

Only the echo of her words came back to her. Jordana was still unconscious, and Ryoji hadn’t moved. The only sign of life was his chest inflating and deflating as he breathed.

_Does he know it’s going to be his last? Does he truly realize what it means to die?_

She lifted the spear above his neck, ready to strike. Her arms were shaking, her hands were sweating. The javelin felt unnaturally heavy in her hands, and she suddenly feared she wasn’t going to be able to strike true. It was as if the metal object had suddenly transformed into a grotesque blunt object, which was going to slip out from her hands, deformed and useless.

_Focus. You’ve gone too far to back down now._

Ryoji’s presence was assaulting her. His hair color, his complexion, his clothes, his smell, the quiet sound of his breathing, it was blurring her visions and obscuring her senses. It was as if he were suddenly a sleeping giant, about to crush her accidentally. She felt a little nauseous, and wondered if she was going to faint.

_I can do it. Think about maman, papa, try to recall their faces… that’s right, you can’t. That’s why you have to get out, so you can see them clearly again. Come on!_

She realized she had been holding her breath all of this time, and finally let it out. Her resolve came out with it, and she finally understood she couldn’t do it. Her legs gave out from under her, and she dropped her weapon as she fell to her knees, crying. Burying her face in her hands, she sobbed quietly, feeling a mantle of shame dropping onto her shoulders. It was heavy, and it hurt, but…

But it wasn’t that. Ryoji was hugging her.

“Ryo…?” She asked in disbelief.

He was there… when had he moved? She felt cold, but he warmed her just a little. She could hear his heartbeat again, and this time it was much faster. But his heart was beating still, and that was the most comforting sound she could hear in this moment. She cried some more, unable to contain herself.

Ryoji let her go, and looked like he wanted to say something – but when he opened his mouth, the only thing that came out was a violent cough.

“Ryo, are you okay?” She asked, suddenly panicking.

He nodded, and pointed to something behind her. Turning around, Rebecca noticed a large vending machine, filled with various drinks. Grabbing a heavy dumbbell from a shelf, Rebecca smashed the glass, took out a bottle of water, and ran to give it to him. Ryoji welcomed the water like a parched man, and drank half of the bottle in one go. He coughed again, spitting out some of it, but eventually calmed down.

“My throat is killing me,” he whispered with a giggle.

“Ryo,” she repeated in shock. “You’re… you’re back?”

He was going to reply something, but was interrupted by the sound of a door being violently pushed against a wall, followed by some running footsteps. Bob dashed into the aisle, completely out of breath. He was running so fast that he didn’t manage to dodge the shelf and ran into it, knocking down a large amount of supplies as he went, which fell and bounced all around him in a cacophony of sounds. But he didn’t seem to care, nor did he seem to feel the pain. He ran the last few meters that separated him to Ryoji, clumsy as a drunk man, and fell on his knees. Ryoji looked a little shocked.

“Aaah… aaah,” Bob said, breathing with difficulty. “Yer… yer fine?”

Ryoji nodded, and Bob let out a sigh of relief. Then he seemed to realize what was going on. Ryoji had _nodded_.

“Wait!” He shouted. “Ryo, yer...”

“I’ve come back to my senses, yes,” Ryoji croaked, before losing himself in a fit of cough.

“Easy there, easy!” Bob replied frightfully. “Dun’t drain yer voice, it’ll come back in due time. Ya feelin’ all right? Ya need sum’thin’? Water, food, ya want me to bring ya back to bed?”

Ryoji was crying, but they looked like tears of joy.

“I missed you a lot,” he admitted, rubbing his eyes.

Bob might have been crying a little too.

“Ya silly bear,” he said, hugging Ryoji tightly. “Ya fuckin’ scared me, ya know that? Jeez, poor Bob can’t catch a rest innis place.”

When he let go of Ryoji, he finally seemed to notice the rest of the room: the sobbing Rebecca, the javelin, and the stunned Jordana.

“Holy shit, whatever the hell happened here?”

“I’ll explain later,” Ryoji said, coughing again. “During the breakfast meeting or something.”

He seemed to want to add something, but Bob shushed him.

“’s okay Ryo, I get it. Dun’t hurt yer voice like this, I already told ya.”

He got up and looked around the room, adjusting his beanie.

“Le’s just say I’ll take care of bringing Jordie back to her room, yeah? Ryo ya follow me, and Becca… ya can come with us, but uh, if ya need some time...”

He trailed off awkwardly. Rebecca was not responding, so he carefully placed his hands underneath Jordana’s body, and lifted her up.

“Sheesh, she’s heavier than she looks,” he commented. “And is that a bruise I spot on her cheek?”

Ryoji didn’t say anything, so Bob shrugged, accepting that there were some things he had yet to understand. They left the store together, abandoning Rebecca behind. They opened Magalie and Ferdinand’s room, waking them both up and explaining what had happened. Ferdinand ran to grab some bandages from the torture room while Magalie took care of placing Jordana on her bed. Having assured that she had things under control, she congratulated Ryoji on his healing, and shoved them out.

Bob then lead Ryoji to room 104, where they sat on the bed together. It was something like 5am, and none of them felt particularly sleepy. Bob was shaking a little.

“Wow,” Bob said. “Ya know, I’m sure there’s a thousand questions I should be askin’ about now. Like hey, ‘how ya holdin’ up’, or ‘what didja see in that creepy hospital”. Or ‘whatev’ the hell happened with Becca n’ Jordie,’ or ‘whatev’ the hell happened with _you’_. But like… all my brain’s shoutin’ is ‘wow, he’s back, I can’t believe it’.”

He chuckled.

“Bob is out of order. _Hors-service!_ Come back some other day!”

“I feel you,” Ryoji agreed. “Too many things happened too fast. I just need a moment.”

They both lied down on the bed, hand in hand, staring at the ceiling thoughtfully.

“Izzit like… the moment where we kiss, or sum’thin’?” Bob asked curiously.

“I have no idea,” Ryoji confessed. “You want to? I don’t think I’m very good at kissing.”

“Like it could matter, ‘fter all this!” Bob said, rolling eyes. “C’m’ere, silly bear.”

And they kissed, and it lasted a while, and it would have probably been better if they had brushed their teeth first, but they didn’t, and didn’t mind too much. Somewhere, the camera probably caught everything, and perhaps one of the viewers went “aaw” somewhere, or perhaps not.

**

During the morning meeting, Rebecca admitted what she had done: she explained the contents of her conversation with Jordana, how she had attacked her in a fit of anger, planned to murder Ryoji, before giving up at the last minute. Her story was met with very different reactions.

Though Ferdinand and Magalie were shocked, they were still convinced that Rebecca wasn’t a bad person – her action had been impulsive, driven by fear, and the fact that she hadn’t been capable of killing, or even harming Ryoji proved that she wasn’t a bad person. Magalie even said “It’s normal that one of us would eventually break under pressure – if it hadn’t been you, it could have been any of us.” Typhaine was of the same opinion, but didn’t dare say anything.

On the other hand, Florian saw in this story the confirmation that he had been right all along, that his fears had been justified. He saw this as an opportunity to show off his “detective instincts” and his “airtight deductions” in a very insensitive way, and showed absolutely no compassion for Jordana’s situation. Gwenn didn’t care about Jordana either, and was scandalized by Rebecca’s action: they believed that she should be kept under close watch, or even put in one of the prisons.

Bob was highly confused by the situation. He felt (understandably) angry that Rebecca had targeted his boyfriend and taken advantage of his weakness – but on the other hand (though he didn’t exactly understand how, or if the two events were even related), it was only after Rebecca’s action that Ryoji had ‘come back’ to him, so he felt like he was indebted to her in some weird way.

Jordana (who had woken up around 5 am, and been unexpertly patched-up by Aphrodite) was uncharacteristically quiet throughout the whole meeting. She didn’t express a desire for revenge, didn’t seem to be angry at Rebecca either. Florian made fun of her in front of everyone, mocking her ‘blunted sense of strategy’ which had led her right into the jaws of a trap. When everyone expected her to put him back in his place with a witty comeback, she remained silent.

But Aphrodite’s reaction was strangest of all. Aphrodite was _furious._

“How could you do something so stupid?” She was asking, dryly. “You should know by now to avoid the kidnappers’ motives at any cost, and you should know not to let Jordana’s words rile you up! We’ve discussed this countless times, and you _still_ fell for her trap, and you nearly took an innocent life with you! Shame on you!”

“I’m sorry,” Rebecca said miserably. “I couldn’t stop myself.”

“Sorry isn’t enough,” Aphrodite retorted mercilessly. “If you were feeling distressed, there were several people in here you could have turned to, so why didn’t you?”

“Come on, you are being too harsh with her,” Ferdinand began. “Besides-”

“No, I’m not,” Aphrodite cut in icily. “Rebecca’s irrational actions could have potentially killed us all – we can’t afford to be lenient here.”

“Aphrodite, stop,” Ryoji pleaded. “I’ve already forgiven her, please, stop tormenting Rebecca!”

“Ryoji, this isn’t just about you,” she replied severely. “As I already said, this could have affected all of us. Besides, you are partially to blame for this too: why didn’t you try to defend yourself in any way? Why didn’t you call for help?”

“Because I trust Rebecca,” Ryoji replied softly. “I know she’s not a murderer. My life was never in danger.”

“Are you completely insane?” Gwenn asked in terror. “She raised a fucking spear above your neck, and you didn’t even feel threatened? They might’ve tried to fix your head in that hospital, but they must’ve fucked it up real bad! You’re not okay, dude, not okay!”

“Dontcha dare insult him like that!” Bob roared, jumping to defend Ryoji. “Tha’s fuckin’ insensitive and not even true! Take it back!”

“Like hell I’ll take it back,” Gwenn replied in frustration, taken aback by the violence of Bob’s outburst.

“It doesn’t matter,” Aphrodite cut in suddenly. “Even if Ryoji was right, his actions were still foolish and dangerous, and should by no means ever be encouraged.”

“I strongly disagree with that!” Ferdinand shouted passionately. “To believe in your friend until the end, there is no noblest act!”

“No,” Aphrodite countered stubbornly. “It’s simply illogical. We’ve been betrayed over and over, and it could easily happen again. I’ll _never_ be okay with this kind of behavior!”

“Aphrodite, please stop,” Ryoji pleaded. “We shouldn’t be at each other’s throats like this!”

“Why would you say that?” she asked flatly. “Are you about to say this is just what the kidnappers want? Because-”

“I don’t _care_ about the kidnappers!” Ryoji shouted, beginning to cry. “I only care about you guys! And it breaks my heart to see our group in disarray, so soon after my return. Yelling at each other like this will only get us hurt!”

“And what, you would have us ignoring a major issue, for the sake of camaraderie?” Florian asked smugly. “You are naught but a child, Ryoji. Go play in the corner and let the adults do the talking.”

“He’s right,” Aphrodite said. “Your sentimentalism is misplaced, and frankly it’d be much easier to deal with this issue if you didn’t interrupt us.”

“Not, that’s not right,” Ryoji cried. “It is especially at a time like this that we need to show compassion, to be united and forgiving, so that we… we...”

He seemed to be looking for his words, but he was clearly too emotionally unstable to finish his sentence.

“Ryoji,” Aphrodite said without an ounce of pity. “You’re clearly not in the right state of mind to have a debate of this sort. Why don’t you go rest in your room?”

“Y’all have no goddamn heart,” Bob said, disgusted.

He would have probably spoken some more, if it hadn’t been for the loud crashing sound coming from the center of the table where only Rebecca and Jordana were seated. Monoblade had apparently dropped from the ceiling, but failed to land on his feet, and collapsed on his head stupidly.

“Ahum,” he said embarrassingly. “Sorry to interrupt this fascinating debate, but I have an announcement to make.”

“Make it quick,” Aphrodite said coldly.

“I don’t take orders from you, costume girl.”

Monoblade took the time to get back up, and to rub his body from the dust it had gathered. It was a very simple gesture, but very strange coming from a robot.

“So like, you bastards beat another of my motives. I really thought we were going to have another class trial, but you had to ruin it by being a little coward, didn’t you?” He asked Rebecca, who didn’t even look at him. “Anyway, I don’t really enjoy when you bastards ignore my motives like that. It’s the… what, third time you’ve done this by now?”

“Get to the point,” Magalie said, rolling her eyes.

“With pleasure! Today I’m here to deliver a new motive: the rules state that I can’t use the same one twice, so I had to improvise. We’re going to have to move out for this one though.”

“Move out?” Typhaine asked, surprised. “Where are you taking us?”

“Oh, somewhere,” Monoblade replied vaguely. “You’ll see it soon enough.”

“How are we going to move though?” Gwenn asked.

Then they sniffed the air.

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes!” Monoblade replied cheerfully. “It’s the sleeping gas again! Hooray baby!”

No one could escape in time – the gas was spreading in the room, and one by one the students fell asleep on the spot, dropping to the floor like pins in a game of bowling.

“Ah, I love these moments,” Monoblade said to no one in particular. “Peace, quiet, silence… at last.”

He jumped down from the table, and called the helicopter.

“You kids are _definitely_ not gonna like this one,” he said when the massive vehicle landed in the parking lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well? Where are they going, you think? And what is that new motive going to be? If you need a hint, remember that this is case 4...


	40. The Aquarium Motive

When Aphrodite woke up, she was lying down on the floor. It was cold and uncomfortable, but mostly strange. How had she ended up here?

Looking around, she realized she was right next to a wall, painted blue. Within the wall, a large amount of square closets had been dug through the wood, and piles of clothes had been arranged inside. Was this a clothes store? A brief examination of the room confirmed as much: she found a lot of racks, displaying dresses, skirts, shirts and tank tops, socks and female underwear. The clothes looked very clean, but not very fresh, as if they had stood in place for years, collecting dust, and had only been washed very recently.

 _This might actually be what happened, she thought._ _If we’re still in Lorient,_ _it could_ _be one of the abandoned stores._

She found Typhaine lying down on the counter, woke her up softly, and helped her get up. Both girls didn’t exchange a single word: they knew by now that it was pointless to ask questions, not until they had found everyone.

It was only when she was about to leave that Aphrodite realized how badly damaged the store was. The exterior wall had half-collapsed on itself, and the glass door had been smashed. Still, there were no debris or shards on the floor, which meant that it must have been cleaned recently.

Once they exited the store, they found themselves in a large hallway, in what looked like a shopping center – or more accurately, the ruins of a shopping center. In the middle of the hallway, there was a row of benches: Florian, Ferdinand and Jordana were already gathered there.

“Hey, it is our friends!” Ferdinand shouted, as if they had been very far away. “Is everyone all right?”

“We’re good, thank you Ferd,” Aphrodite replied.

“What about you guys?” Typhaine asked.

Ferdinand shrugged, which seemed to mean “as good as it gets, these days”.

“Have you seen the others?” He asked.

“No, no one,” Aphrodite replied. “But they’re probably not far. Let’s just wait until everyone arrives.”

In the meantime, Aphrodite inspected the nearby stores. None of them were in a particularly good shape, but they had all been cleaned and partially restored quite recently. She spotted four different clothes stores, a sport store, and there was another one in the distance which could have been a bakery, but she wasn’t certain. The building seemed reasonably solid and would probably not collapse on itself in the near future, she decided. If not, this would be a very stupid way to die. Or perhaps that was the motive? Kill someone to escape a building on the brink of collapse?

Ryoji was next to arrive, with Rebecca following him silently. He asked everyone if they were doing all right, but only received a few nods in response.

“You’ll have to watch out, there’s many holes in the floor, if you’re not careful you could fall to your death. There’s a parking lot underneath, but the ceiling is rather high.”

He shivered.

“How troubling,” Ferdinand commented. “Thank you for bringing this point to our attention.”

Bob, Magalie and Gwenn were the last to arrive: they looked as confused as each member of the group.

“Why are we even here?” Gwenn was asking. “What’s this place got to do with the next motive?”

“I’m sure Monoblade will explain himself soon enough,” Aphrodite said placidly – and indeed, there he was.

“Welcome to the aquarium motive,” he said in a conspirator’s tone, rubbing his hands together.

“The whut now?” Bob asked confusedly.

“This place is a shopping center, as you all have probably noticed by now,” Monoblade began. “It’s got three floors, and we’re currently on the middle one. Each floor is connected by an elevator, and a set of stairs. Now there’s also the occasional cracks in the floor, but I don’t recommend using those if you want to move between floors, because you’d probably break your legs, and that’s the best case scenario.”

“Okay, but what does this have to do with aquariums?” Gwenn asked, shaking their head in confusion.

“I’m not done!” Monoblade protested. “So, three floors connected by stairs and an elevator. Each of the window has been sealed with an iron plate, and there’s no way to go outside. Breaking down the building is still prohibited (unless it’s somehow part of a murder plan), so don’t try to do that if you want to avoid facing execution. Now, listen closely, and tell me if you can hear something.”

Everyone stopped talking for a brief moment. Aphrodite listened very closely, but there were no sounds to pick up: the wind couldn’t reach them, there wasn’t a single bug in the room, no clinking of machines, no buzzing of street lights. All she could hear was her classmates breathing in unison. That was a relaxing noise, she had to admit.

“I hear it,” Typhaine said softly. “It’s like… some kind of distant rumbling noise, but… I don’t know what it is. It’s...”

She frowned, but didn’t seem to be able to put a name on it.

“Pfuhuhu, those artificial ears they gave you surely are powerful, aren’t they? The noise you’re hearing is the water spilling out onto the floor of the parking lot underneath.”

“Water… spilling?” Typhaine asked, beginning to understand.

“So the ‘aquarium’ is...” Ryoji began, sweating.

“The aquarium is the shopping center, yes!” Monoblade shouted, sounding extremely happy. “And you kids are the fish!”

“That is ridiculous,” Florian snapped. “Let us out of here immediately!”

“Sure sure, I could do that. If you murder someone.”

“You...” Florian groaned, frustratingly.

“So this is your plan,” Aphrodite said flatly. “Either we kill someone, or we drown.”

“Indeed! The water level is slowly going to rise, and in three days it will have taken all of the available space!”

“No way,” Ryoji cried. “You’re sentencing us all to death!”

“Now, I never said that,” Monoblade objected, folding his tiny arms. “Kill someone, and all of you may escape from this dreadful place! Naturally, we’ll still hold a trial. And if the killer wins, then you’ll still all be executed. This rule doesn’t change.”

“You horrendous fiend,” Ferdinand said in his booming voice. “You want to force someone to commit a sacrifice!”

Monoblade couldn’t really smile: his face didn’t have any features that could move. Still, when he suddenly grew silent after Ferdinand’s assertion, everyone could picture the human hiding behind the robot, cackling with delight.

“Hehe… hehehe,” he laughed, rubbing his hands.

“What’s so funny?” Jordana asked weakly.

“There’s a special rule to the aquarium motive. Two special rules actually! Number one: a suicide won’t lead to a class trial. In other words: bravely sacrificing your own life won’t save your friends from drowning: only committing murder will.”

“You monster!” Ferdinand roared.

“Rule number two,” Monoblade continued, ignoring the insult, “we’re removing the accomplice rule. You can no longer vote for the accomplice during the trial to win, only the true murderer will save you all!”

“Eh?” Bob asked. “But why wouldja remove that one?”

“Because you kids have been a very annoying and stubborn bunch, that’s why! I mean, come on, it’s almost been a month and there’s still ten of you alive, we gotta speed up the process or the audience will be bored to tears!”

“Fuck the audience!” Bob shouted back, giving Monoblade the middle finger.

“I’m sure some of them would be delighted, especially after your little bravado from the other day,” Monoblade replied slyly.

“Whut- whut the hell,” Bob muttered, suddenly silenced.

“I have a question,” Aphrodite said calmly.

“Go ahead, ask away!”

“It’s about this ‘true murderer’ detail. Who counts as a true murderer? If I were to hypothetically blackmail someone into murdering someone else, would I count as the true murderer?”

“No, you wouldn’t,” Monoblade explained calmly. “Only the perpetrator of the crime counts as a murderer. It doesn’t matter if someone else forces them to do it, or if they accidentally trigger a trap that they didn’t set up, as long as their actions directly cause someone to die, then they’re the person you gotta vote for!”

“But what if, for example, someone were to put a knife in a sleeping person’s hand, and then force them to shove it in someone’s else’s throat. Who’d be the murderer then?”

Monoblade seemed confused by the question.

“Gee, you have a lot of imagination, don’t you? In that case, I suppose I’ll add a new rule: the murderer has to be conscious during their murder. If they’re not, then it doesn’t count. Works for you?”

“Sure.”

“Fine, if there aren’t any more questions-”

“You’ll have nightmares after this.”

Monoblade turned around to see who had spoken. It was Jordana.

“How do you know that, silly girl?”

“I just know. It’s not very difficult actually: you’ll suffer a lot from the pointless torture you’re inflicting on us. Anyone would.”

“But at least I won’t drown!” Monoblade replied cockily before disappearing.

Aphrodite folded her arms, and took a quick survey of her “troops” before deciding what to do next. Bob and Gwenn looked confused, Jordana had a thoughtful expression which made her look a little scary. Ryoji seemed pained, Typhaine was crying softly, Rebecca seemed not to have heard anything from the previous exchange. Florian and Ferdinand looked angry, but Magalie was even angrier than them both. She looked _enraged_.

“It’s so unfair!” She shouted. “Two of us are going to have to die, and for what? Can anyone imagine a stupider reason than this aquarium motive? Ugh!”

She was shaking with rage, but Ferdinand took her arm before she attempted to punch a wall (maybe that was something she often did when she was angry?).

“I can’t believe it,” Gwenn said in a hollow voice. “This can’t be real.”

“What did you expect?” Jordana asked, sounding tired. “That’s killing games for you. They won’t be satisfied until there’s… one, two, maybe three of us left? Let’s just get this over with.”

She attracted a few curious glances.

“What do you mean?” Aphrodite asked.

“Let’s talk, right now. We can’t avoid it, so we might as well choose the two people we’re going to sacrifice, here and now. I vote for Rebecca, personally, and not just because she attacked me.”

Her voice was filled with tired resignation. There was nothing left of her act, there was nothing left of the Jordana who constantly pretended to be happy, to enjoy the killing game, and to take pleasure in belittling others. A rush of cold wind seemed to take over the group. Typhaine’s eyes rounded in fear, Ryoji compulsively grabbed Bob’s hand, Florian shivered.

“No,” Aphrodite said firmly. “We need to explore this building first. The kidnappers may have claimed there was no way out, but this might very well be a trap. It’s far too soon to make sacrifices!”

 _“_ _Retarder l’inévitable ne fera qu’empirer la situation,”_ Jordana announced tiredly, shaking her head. “There’s no trick here, and the more we wait, the more it’ll hurt.”

“Taking a decision without first asserting our situation would be foolish,” Aphrodite countered severely. “We’ll explore this place first. I suppose we could divide the group in three: four people will inspect the third floor, and two groups of three will take care of the rest. Then we come back here to discuss what we found – does that work for you all?”

“Sure,” Bob said.

“Yeah, let’s do it,” Magalie added, still trying to calm her anger.

“We need to make our groups carefully to uh… keep the troublemakers in check,” Typhaine added timidly. “Like me.”

“Good thinking,” Aphrodite approved. “I’ll go with Rebecca.”

“We shall take Jordana with us,” Ferdinand said, gesturing to himself and Magalie. “We will explore the first floor.”

“I guess me and Bob can look after Typhaine,” Ryoji said gently. “If that’s okay with you?”

The little girl nodded.

“So that means Flo and I will be on the third floor with you guys?” Gwenn asked Aphrodite.

“Indeed. Let’s go.”

As it turned out, the building had a rather simple structure. It had a rectangular shape: the elevator was always in the middle, and right next to the staircase. When they arrived on the third floor, the group split up, with Aphrodite and Rebecca inspecting the western side, and Gwenn and Florian exploring the eastern side. Aphrodite pushed the first door open: the flashy red carpet, dark walls and large torn posters on the wall informed her that she was in a movie theatre. Her and Rebecca inspected every room one by one in a very uncomfortable silence. It was a tedious task which didn’t yield much in terms of results: there were no exits or any useful objects, so they simply left.

Across from the cinema was a large pharmacy, fully stocked with medicine, first aid supplies, shower gels, skin-care material and makeup.

“We should make a list of all the items here, in case anything’s dangerous.”

“How do we know which are dangerous?” Rebecca asked flatly.

“Just read the labels.”

Aphrodite got to work, but after a while, she realized that Rebecca wasn’t doing anything.

“Why aren’t you helping me?”

“What’s the point?” Rebecca asked, sounding tired and dejected. “We can’t avoid a murder this time, or we’ll all drown. Might as well let it happen.”

“No,” Aphrodite replied firmly. “We can’t give up yet. Have you considered this could be a trap?”

“What for?”

“Recall the tombs in the graveyard. They made it explicit this killing game is some kind of test. This motive too could be a test of our resolve: by putting us in an impossible situation, they want to see if we break under pressure.”

“I already broke under pressure,” Rebecca replied flatly. “Who says I won’t do it again?”

“Why do you always assume you have to do this fight on your own?” Aphrodite asked curiously. “When you feel down, you can always ask for our help.”

“And what can you do for me? Magically bring my family back? Magically erase my sins?”

“Scold you for acting like a child,” Aphrodite said severely.

Rebecca sighed.

“You have no compassion, do you?”

“What you did was inexcusable. Don’t expect me to show mercy so soon.”

“But I… I didn’t do it,” Rebecca countered weakly, beginning to cry.

“Ask Jordana if you didn’t do it.”

“Jordana is a monster!” Rebecca shouted in anguish. “She tried to kill Lisa, she pushed Alexander to murder-”

“I know,” Aphrodite said. “Jordana is a despicable human being who abuses others’ weaknesses. She’s as guilty as you here. But you should have known better than to listen to her, you should have known better than to let her get under your skin.”

Rebecca let out a heartless laugh.

“She never tries to get under _your_ skin. Is it because you don’t love anyone?”

Aphrodite didn’t say anything. Perhaps she was slightly paler than a minute ago, perhaps not.

“You’re not allowed to say that,” she eventually said, the frustration showing in her voice.

“There, I did it again,” Rebecca said miserably. “I keep hurting people… why do I do that?”

She shook her head.

“I’m sorry Aphrodite, I’m...”

She didn’t know how to finish her sentence, so she moved on.

“I’ll help you with the inventory.”

They worked in silence. After what seemed like an eternity, they were finally done. Behind the counter, there was a small room with a large bed in the middle, a table, a dresser, and a large wardrobe on the opposite side. A window which (presumably) lead to the outside had been sealed with an iron plate.

“What is that doing here?” Rebecca asked curiously. “Usually back doors in pharmacies just lead to little shelves with special medicines, right? Those that you can only give to clients with a prescription.”

“Indeed, that’s strange,” Aphrodite mumbled thoughtfully. “I suspect there’s a personal story behind this, but I don’t know what it could be.”

“Allow me to explain!” Shouted Monoblade, dropping from the ceiling, shaking both girls from their thoughts.

“You know what this room is?” Aphrodite asked suspiciously.

“Indeed! This building wasn’t always a shopping center, you know? And this store wasn’t always a pharmacy either. During the twentieth century, this actually used to be a clothing store! Well, only on the surface anyway. There were plenty of little ‘back rooms’ like this one, where the _patronne’s_ girls would spread their legs for their clients, to say things bluntly.”

“This is not where I expected this story to go,” Rebecca admitted nervously.

“But why is that room even still here?” Aphrodite asked, sticking to pure logic. “This is no longer a clothes store, and these kinds of traditions don’t really hold up these days.”

“No, they don’t!” Monoblade agreed. “When the store became a pharmacy, most of the back-rooms were demolished or repurposed as storerooms. But we remade this one into a bedroom because I wanted an excuse to tell the story! You’ll notice that the room is sound-proof and that it can be locked from the inside or from the outside.”

“That’s uh… weird,” Rebecca commented uneasily. “I’d like to get out of here.”

Monoblade shot through the ceiling and both girls went back to the hallway. There was only one place left to investigate, and it looked like a bookstore. It was at the very end of the hallway – the sign above the door seemed to have burned, and was unreadable. Aphrodite was eager to walk in: her and Rebecca inspected the shelves together. From manga to cookbooks, the place had it all: books of all types, all formats, and for all ages.

“I don’t see anything that was published after 2010,” Aphrodite noticed. “Which would mean this bookstore has remained untouched for ten years.”

“How strange,” Rebecca commented.

She seemed very distant again, as if she weren’t exactly listening to what Aphrodite was saying. Aphrodite was about to say something, but her monopad buzzed.

[Magalie] We’re done with our investigation.

[Gwenn] cool. come to the third floor, there’s a Chinese restaurant up there, and the kitchen has food.

[Ryoji] We’ll be done shortly, too.

Aphrodite quickly typed “same here” before turning to Rebecca.

“Anything else you’d like to investigate?”

“Not really.”

“Fine, I guess we can go then.”

But before they could exit, they were met with a shocking sight: a little cat, apparently very confused, and trotting in their direction.

“Hope?” Rebecca asked in shock. “What are you doing here?”

“I guess they brought him here too,” Aphrodite said neutrally. “Strange.”

Rebecca seemed very sad all of a second.

“What’s the point? If we all die in here, he’ll die too. Couldn’t they just leave him behind?”

“Why do you feel sad for the cat? You should be feeling sad for us.”

“But he’s such an innocent creature… he doesn’t deserve this,” Rebecca said sadly. “It was pointlessly cruel to bring him here.”

She crouched down on the floor, and began to pet the animal. Hope didn’t seem to know or care that his life was in danger – but as always, his purring could tell that he enjoyed the petting thoroughly.

“I don’t understand you,” Aphrodite admitted with a sigh.

“And that’s why you hate me so much?”

“No. I despise you for what you tried to do. My anger is justified.”

“It’s strange then,” Rebecca replied, in an even tone. “You never showed the same hate toward Jordana. Why is that?”

There was no accusation in her voice: she was simply presenting a question. But alas, Aphrodite had no answer to provide.

**

The restaurant was a nice and cozy place, very different from the rustic interior at the _Crabe Marteau._ Each table was delicately adorned with a fluffy pink tablecloth, and the walls showed pictures of pretty little dogs and cats. Magalie seemed to be disgusted by how mawkish it was, but Ryoji and Typhaine loved it.

Gwenn and Florian were the ones who prepared the meal: plain rice with soy sauce, and a few steaks for those who wanted one. When Rebecca showed them the cat she was carrying, they began to search the kitchen for something that he could eat, and eventually found a tuna can. Hope seemed to enjoy it.

“Let’s get started,” Aphrodite suggested. “What did you guys find?”

Magalie and Jordana explained that the first floor was nothing but a gigantic parking lot. The cars in there were very dirty, but rarely damaged. There were all sorts of interesting things in them.

“I found the diary of a little girl, for example,” Magalie explained. “I read a few lines, she described how her life was before the war: the last pages were about her coming to the shopping center. Either she died there, or her parents were forced to abandon their car. At any rate, I figured it’d be an intriguing historical source.”

“There was also a bicycle,” Ferdinand added. “I tried it on the second floor, it is in a good condition.”

“Monoblade didn’t lie about the aquarium thing, however,” Jordana said grimly. “For now te water level is up to our knees, but it never stops rising. We tried to clog the pipes, but Monoblade threatened to kill us if we continued, so we gave up.”

This alarming conclusion brought everyone back to the reality of their situation. Each time it was like a gut punch: Ryoji quickly picked up the conversation.

“On the second floor, it’s mostly clothes stores,” he explained with a weak grin. “There’s a bakery too, and a huge supermarket. The bakery is empty, but the supermarket is stocked with food and all kinds of supplies. Nothing fresh, but all of it is edible. And nothing past the expiration date, which means it’s been supplied recently.”

“Now _that’s_ weird,” Gwenn commented. “We already have a restaurant, why’d they bother to fill up a supermarket too?”

“Bob and I have no clue,” Ryoji admitted. “Since we had a lot of time on our hands, we gathered all the dangerous objects, and made a pile out of them.”

“Ah, by the way, the 2nd floor’s hall is a fuckin’ cheese slice,” Bob warned. “There’s holes in the floor ev’rywhere. Some big, some small, ya’ll’d better watch out.”

“Duly noted,” Aphrodite said.

She summarized what her and Rebecca had found on the third floor, including the strange back-room in the pharmacy.

“That’s all we found,” she concluded. “What about the other side?”

“You’re not going to like this,” Gwenn warned.

“How so?”

“We found an armory. They have all types of weapons: guns, grenade, blades of all kinds, bats, I think I even saw some ninja blades in there, whatever they’re called. It’s pretty huge, and all the weapons are in tip top shape. Florian and I made an inventory of everything there was, which took a while. It’s a pretty big file, you might’ve noticed we sent it on the group chat?”

There were a few nods. Magalie sighed.

“The message couldn’t be clearer. They want to make a murder as easy as possible.”

“Then let’s make it difficult,” Aphrodite countered energetically. “Can the armory be locked?”

“Nah, the doors’s busted actually,” Gwenn said with a sigh.

“We could always seal the entrance, then. We have a supermarket, right? Surely we can grab a hammer and nails, and-”

Ryoji audibly gasped when she said ‘hammer’ - when she turned her head toward him, he looked like he had been hit. He was suddenly breathing a little fast.

 _What’s wrong with him?_ Aphrodite wondered.

Then it hit her:

_Oh, he’s thinking about the execution again. I triggered his trauma. Shit._

But Bob was already on the case. He had suddenly grabbed both of Ryoji’s hands, and was trying to make eye contact.

“Hey, hey, Ryo, look at me for a bit. Breathe. Dun’t panic, I’m here, I can help ya. Breaaaathe. Again. There ya go, nice and slow. Think about the field, yeah? With all them pretty flowers and fluffy animals. Imagine yer walkin’ in the field. Ev’rythin’s calm, ev’rythin’ peaceful. Feel better now?”

Ryoji nodded, but he looked a little shaken by the incident. Aphrodite felt a sudden pang of guilt, but she didn’t know if she should apologize or not.

“Uh, you’re right, we could do… that,” Gwenn said uneasily.

“Or we could simply place some guards in front of the armory,” Ferdinand suggested.

“I said it before, what on earth would be the point?” Florian asked, inspecting his nails (or pretending to, at any rate). “Killing is not a difficult task, we have plenty of means at our disposal. And in the current context, do we even want to prevent a killing?”

No one seemed to enjoy being reminded of the constant threat on their existence. Florian received a fair share of cold glares, which he did his best to ignore.

“I don’t think it’s a bad idea to place a guard in front of the armory, even in these circumstances,” Aphrodite said thoughtfully. “There’s a small chance the kidnappers don’t really intend to drown us, and simply want to test our resolve. If the situation really becomes desperate, we’ll take a desperate measure, but in the meantime… let’s not try our luck too much, maybe.”

“That seems sensible to me,” Ferdinand admitted. “It would only work if we gathered all the dangerous objects in the armory though.”

“You’re talking about the kitchen knives?” Gwenn asked.

“Yes, but also the uhm...”

Ferdinand seemed to be hesitating, looking at Ryoji uncertainly.

“The _things_ in the supermarket,” he concluded awkwardly.

“Yes, those,” Ryoji said tiredly. “I wouldn’t mind having them out of my sight.”

“Then it’s decided,” Magalie asserted. “Let’s get to work.”

“Before we do that, I have a question,” Jordana said, raising her hand. “Placing guards in the armory is all well and good, but what if the guards _themselves_ take a weapon?”

“That’s a good point actually,” Magalie pondered. “We have an inventory though: every evening, you and I could check that nothing’s missing. That’d discourage anyone from taking a weapon, because they’d know we’d find out eventually.”

“Hm. I suppose that could work.”

So they all got to work. Aphrodite knew that any medicine overdose could cause someone to die, but didn’t want to empty the pharmacy of its potentially useful supplies, so she only took out the most rare and expensive medicines, and put them in a little stack in the armory. Bob and Rebecca brought all the tools from the supermarket, Gwenn and Florian took care of emptying the kitchen of all its knives, and even the iron skewers that they found in a drawer. Typhaine wondered how they were going to cut their food – Gwenn shrugged and said that they’d just have to eat nothing but soup and _purée_.

“You’re the ultimate soup maker, it shouldn’t bother you too much, should it?”

“I guess not,” she agreed timidly.

Magalie, Ferdinand and Jordana had the worst of jobs: they had to search each of the cars in the parking lot, in case one of them had any dangerous items inside. But by the time they arrived, the water level had already reached their waist, and it was very hard to walk around. Still, they didn’t give up, and searched each of the cars meticulously, retrieving a few items just to show they had done something.

“It does feel like a useless job, doesn’t it?” Jordana asked. “But somehow, I don’t really want to stop.”

“It’s because it keeps us busy,” Magalie explained. “Personally I don’t mind doing something useless and tiring, if it keeps my thoughts away from the fact I could die in less than three days. In fact, when we’re done here, I’ll probably try to find something else to do: if it’s difficult and useless, it’s great. I’m taking suggestions.”

“I thought you wanted to work on your thesis?” Ferdinand shouted, from the other side of the room.

“I finished it, actually,” Magalie replied.

“What?”

Ferdinand ran (or swam?) to congratulate her.

“That is just wonderful! No one could finish a thesis in only two years, and especially in these circumstances, but the ultimate historian! I am so proud of you my friend!”

“Thank you,” Magalie replied, blushing slightly. “Yeah, I wanted to work on it some more, but I’ve realized… there’s nothing else to say, or fix. I wonder what’s going to happen to it now, though.”

“I don’t think the kidnappers care all that much about history,” Jordana said grimly. “After all, they want us to _suffer!”_ She said in a goofy tone, waving her hands around stupidly. “They’ll probably just burn it,” she added flatly.

“Jesus they’d better not, or I’ll go berserk,” Magalie said threateningly. “Oh hey, I found a paper-clip! I’ll file it as a ‘dangerous weapon’ and put it with the rest.”

**

“Hey Bob, you mind if I borrow Ryoji for a moment?”

The work was done: each of the dangerous items had been placed in the armory. Gwenn was guarding the entrance, accompanied by a (still) confused cat and Florian, who had initiated a very heated debate about colors and which ones went well with others. Meanwhile, all the others were free to do as they pleased. Aphrodite was supposed to look after Rebecca, but she needed to talk with Ryoji in private.

“Sure,” Bob said. “Will it take long?”

“I don’t know,” Aphrodite admitted. “Thank you Bob.”

She didn’t realize that leaving Bob alone with the girl who had attempted to murder his boyfriend was probably a terrible idea, and went to the bookstore with Ryoji. There was a little space, close to the (inaccessible) windows where the owners had set a little table and some couches. Aphrodite and Ryoji sat there.

“How are you doing?” Aphrodite asked, sounding very serious.

“Weak,” Ryoji admitted. “I mean, I was already weak before, but this… this made it worse.”

“Are you taking your meds?”

“Yes. Every morning and every evening, like the doctors told me. It helps a bit, but sometimes it has some weird side-effects. This morning for example, I felt really hungry… unnaturally hungry.”

“I didn’t notice anything.”

“Because it doesn’t shock anyone to see a fat man eat a lot of food,” Ryoji said with a little smile. “But this is definitely unusual for me.”

“I’m sorry,” Aphrodite said, shaking her head. “For what you’re going through, and how I treated you this morning. I don’t know what came over me.”

“You don’t have to apologize to me,” Ryoji said, surprised, as if the mere concept was absurd in itself. “You should maybe apologize to Rebecca… uh, nevermind,” he said when she shot him a cold glare. “You don’t want to?”

“I’m still mad at her. I feel like it should be understandable, but… she _did_ say something that struck me this morning. She said I never got this angry before, not even at Jordana, or any of the actual murderers.”

“That’s true. Though we’ve been betrayed over and over, it never affected you so badly before. Though there’s no shame in it!” Ryoji added reassuringly. “We’re all getting weary from all… this,” he said, gesturing vaguely. “It’s a wonder we’re even still standing after all we’ve been through.”

“It’s more than that, I think,” Aphrodite said, and she had that look in her eye, that look when she tried to solve a mystery, and was on the path to finding a solution. “When we were betrayed before… it wasn’t exactly unsurprising, but it always seemed to _make sense,_ in a way. Like I always had an intuition, and when the thing happened it just confirmed it. But it’s different with Rebecca, because I truly didn’t expect her to do something like this, never. Maybe I’m upset because I was wrong.”

“I… I don’t know,” Ryoji said. “You know, I never expected Alexander to betray me. Or any of the others, not even Lucien. I believed in each of them… I know I’m stupid, but even today I don’t think someone could kill me.”

“Oh, Ryoji...”

In this instant, she felt a sudden wave of admiration for him, perhaps with a touch of scorn, followed by a wave of guilt. She had always considered her classmates as little pieces on a chessboards, comparing their strengths and weaknesses, but Ryoji believed in each of them equally. Perhaps, if they had all been a bit more like him, there would have been more survivors – or perhaps the murderers would simply have had an easier job.

“Even Jordana?” She ended up asking, unsure of what else she could say.

“Especially Jordana,” Ryoji replied, to her astonishment.

“What do you mean?”

Ryoji cast a quick glance around the room, as if he were making sure that nobody was listening.

“Jordana is suffering,” he whispered, as if he were somehow confiding a big secret. “She’s scared, and she feels guilty all the time.”

“Well, yes I knew that.”

“But I can _feel_ it,” Ryoji replied passionately. “You know about hypersensibility? About sympathy? I’m basically an emotional sponge, Aphrodite. I don’t just _know_ about Jordana’s feelings – in a way, they’re mine too.”

“They’re what?”

The concept was alien to Aphrodite. She was rarely attentive to other peoples’ emotions: she could only tell that someone was angry when they began screaming, that they were afraid because they were shaking.

“But that must be horrible,” she argued. “If you feel other people’s emotions all the time, you must get...”

“Constantly overwhelmed,” Ryoji said with a nod. “It’s not very easy to deal with. I was seeing a therapist before this killing game, but I think all her efforts have been ruined,” he said with a tired chuckle.

Aphrodite was pondering very intensely.

“This is fascinating,” she said, failing to realize how insensitive she was. “Does that mean you can feel my emotions right now, and identify them clearly?”

“Pretty much,” Ryoji said with a blush. “Some people say it’s like a superpower, but it’s more like walking with chains on my feet.”

“So who else is feeling distressed among the group?”

“Florian, unsurprisingly. Well… pretty much everyone, you know. Positive note though, Bob is doing better than before, and Ferdinand is surprisingly upbeat despite the circumstances!”

“Is he now? That’s good.”

She spent another short while pondering very intensely, staring at her hands as if they had personally offended her. Ryoji waited patiently for her to be done.

“Do you think your power could help you detect lies? Because I’ve been thinking of using you as my partner during class trials for a while now...”

“H-hold on,” Ryoji said nervously. “I’m honored by how highly you think of my abilities, but it’s just sensitivity, you know? It’s not a lie detector. I just know when people feel emotions, because I feel them too.”

“So theoretically, if someone were to feel an emotion which was didn’t match their assertions, you’d be able to determine it, correct? For example, someone saying that they were sad about something, but secretly being happy about it.”

“I… I guess?” Ryoji said uneasily. “I’m not sure it’s okay to use people’s emotions against themselves like that though.”

“Normally I would agree with you, but we’re in a killing game. Shouldn’t we use every means at our disposal, if it can guarantee the survival of most of the group? Anyway, regardless of your answer, I’d still like you to be my partner.”

“This is all so sudden,” Ryoji said, sweating. “Why would you choose me? I’m sure Magalie is cleverer.”

“You’ve shown reasonably good abilities for solving trials so far. I’m sure the only thing you lack is confidence. The way you saved Bob last time, by suddenly remembering the trick to opening the secret passage for example, that was quite impressive.”

“I’m not sure. I don’t feel like I could.”

Aphrodite shrugged.

“I have faith in you, but I know that speaking up during a trial can be tough. If you don’t feel confident enough, I can probably do the task on my own. I won’t hold a grudge if you say no.”

“I promise you that I’ll think about it. If a murder does happen, I’ll have to help like everyone else anyway. But… please, give me some time, okay?” He pleaded. “It’s a lot to take in, and I’m still fragile.”

“Right, sorry. I should probably leave you to Bob.”

They left the room together. Bob and Rebecca were still in the hallway – it seemed neither of them had moved at all during the conversation.

“Will you apologize to Rebecca?” Ryoji asked timidly.

“I don’t think I should,” Aphrodite replied. “But I’ll consider if, since you asked me.”

“O-okay.”

**

“Ah, Typhaine!” Came Ferdinand’s booming voice. “I wanted to talk to you.”

They were in an Ikea store. During the lunch meeting, Gwenn and Florian hadn’t had time to mention its existence, because mentioning the armory had derailed their conversation. Yet here it was: a big store filled with all kinds of fresh furniture. The knives had naturally all been taken from the kitchen area, but that wasn’t what interested Typhaine. She was counting the beds, trying to check if there were enough for everyone in the group to sleep comfortably. Or at leas that’s what she had been doing, until Ferdinand had suddenly interrupted her.

“Me?” She asked curiously. “Why would you want to talk to me?”

“We are friends, are we not? One of the _chevalier’s_ duties is to make sure his friends are in good spirits! If he fights villains by day but neglects his allies by night, then what kind of a person is he?”

“I don’t know,” Typhaine said. “Whatever you do, I’ll still think you’re cool though! I liked when you showed up wearing a suit of armor on the first day, that was pretty cool.”

“Oh, uhm- well, you are of course very welcome,” he said, stroking his moustache proudly.

He was wearing green clothes that day: an apple-green shirt which looked a little faded, a darker-green vest, sleeveless and sturdy, and some even darker-green pants, which looked a little large for him. Ferdinand seemed to like the color green a lot, for most days he was dressed in green. Most people would be reminded of frogs, but Typhaine always associated it with soup (though she knew all soups were not green, it was the default color in her mind).

“What do you want to talk about?” She asked kindly. “Do you want to help me prepare the beds? I think I found some blankets in another aisle.”

“My, what a wonderful idea! Let us get to it!”

They walked toward the next aisle, Ferdinand’s boots making loud noises as they hit the floor with each step. It was a little eerie, being mostly alone in such a big store like this. In fact, Typhaine found the entire shopping center eerie – aside from the fact that it had turned into a death trap, it was cruel of the kidnappers to remind their captives of how lonely they were, by giving them so much space to roam into.

“So what do you intend to do when you escape?” Ferdinand asked jovially.

The question caught Typhaine off-guard. She hadn’t even thought about escaping since Lucien had died: all of her hopes had died with him, and the aquarium motive had made things even worse.

“I don’t know if I’m going to escape,” she said softly, in the calm yet weak voice of a girl who had accepted her fate.

“Why, I believe in you though.”

“You do, really?” Typhaine asked naïvely.

“Of course! You have all the qualities to become a survivor. You may not see it yourself, but you are strong, Typhaine Hagier. Stronger than you may think!”

“Uh, thank you Ferdinand de Soissons,” she replied, not expecting to see her full name in there.

She wanted to answer his question, but she didn’t really have anything to tell him. She didn’t see herself in the outside world, she had never lived in a war-torn country and could hardly comprehend what it meant for her, or how she could adapt her ambitions to fit the change.

“Even if I escape, I don’t know what I would do,” she admitted. “What would you do?”

“Well, I would finish what I started, for once,” Ferdinand said proudly. “That is, I would pursue my training and become an actual knight! Ultimate wanderer is a title which does not suit me at all, quite frankly.”

Typhaine put a hand in front of her mouth in shock.

“You want to keep training? Despite the blow that damaged your eyesight?”

“Obviously! My resolve is made of steel, not cardboard. Sure, this is going to be a tough challenge, but am I one to back down from a challenge?”

“I guess not!” Typhaine replied with enthusiasm, and for just a second she was once again the ball of energy which she had been on the first day, meeting all of her new friends at the railway station.

She was smiling. For a while, she had thought that Ferdinand was just like Jordana: a man who liked to spout some big words to hide his true self. But she was beginning to realize how different they were. Ferdinand’s personality was genuine, every part of it only a sign that he enjoyed being himself, and that included the flowery speech.

“I hope you become a hero one day,” she said before she could stop herself.

“Why, you think I am not a hero yet?” He asked, faux-offended, which made them both laugh. “Your turn now, young maiden. What would you like to be? Ignore all technical difficulties, and let your heart speak freely.”

Typhaine didn’t hesitate.

“A teacher,” she said passionately. “Back home, I’ve spent a lot of time teaching my little brother how to cook. It was one of my favorite hobbies! I’d like to try teaching other people, children or adults it doesn’t matter to me. As long as everyone learns something new and has fun!”

“That _is_ a noble purpose,” Ferdinand agreed, placing a sheet on a pristine mattress. “Why not start here and now though? You have nine people at your disposal, with nothing to do but benefit from your wisdom.”

Typhaine looked away shyly, tempted.

“Maybe, if you like it, I could,” she said with a tiny, hopeful smile.

“I would be delighted,” he said with a bow.

“Such a gentleman! You will make a great pupil, I can tell.”

“So when do we start?”

“Right now!” Typhaine said, bouncing a little. “Pick a color!”

“A color…? You are asking a colorblind man to pick a color?”

Typhaine froze in place.

“Oh, sorry,” she deflated. “My shtick is that I can make soup that’s any color, but that wouldn’t matter much to you, would it? I’m very sorry.”

“Worry not!” Ferdinand replied, apparently unbothered. “I cannot choose a color, that is for certain, but I could always choose a smell, right?”

“Oh right!” Typhaine said, enthusiasm suddenly rushing back to her. “Let’s go to the kitchen, pronto!”

And thus they went, having completely forgotten to make the beds, or about the water level rising on the first floor. And they had a great time.

**

Ryoji had a nap, then he asked for a little time alone, to clear his thoughts. Bob was a little reluctant to let him go without protection, but eventually agreed, thinking that arguing about _anything_ with Ryoji in his current weak state would probably be a bad idea, and that it was better to treat him like a spoiled puppy for the time being. Ryoji thanked him for his trust, and immediately went down to the first floor – not because he had an unreasonable liking for parking lots, but because the idea of flooding a building was fascinating in a weird way, so much that he was tempted to swim for a bit. After all, when else in his life was he going to witness such an odd sight?

He went down the stairs, thinking the elevator would probably be blocked midway if he tried to use it. The steps were made of pure cement, and there wasn’t a single crack in them, hinting that they were knew. Ryoji briefly wondered if the previous stairway had collapsed during the bombings.

Once he reached the bottom of the stairs (or at least as far as he could go without having his feet wet), he removed his clothes and put them in a neat little pile behind him, before slowly stepping into the cold water. He wanted to do that alone for more than one reason: firstly, because he wasn’t totally comfortable with his own body, and would rather avoid being seen. And it wasn’t because he personally dislike being fat – in fact he liked his round appearance, thinking it made him cuter. But he had been mistreated or made fun of enough in his life to be afraid of showing his body to anyone.

Secondly, if he admitted to anyone that he wanted to swim in the ‘aquarium’, he was convinced that he’d collect a few odd glances. Sure, the place was ridiculously clean (and so was the water from what he could judge), but that was still a weird idea in itself, and he didn’t want the others to think he was weird (even if it turned out to be true). Thirdly, he had a little headache, and believed a little quiet time would help him greatly.

He put a step in the water, then a second, going down the stairs slowly, and then immersed himself completely, including the head. The water was deeply cold, but he didn’t mind.

 _Hairy, fat, and immune to the cold… I really_ am _a bear,_ he thought to himself humorously.

Obviously, it was an indescribable experience. The cars didn’t float, so they looked like shipwrecks, kept perfectly intact under the ocean’s surface. The water was so clean that it wasn’t hard so sea through, and it was so still that it wasn’t hard to swim through either. The ceiling was still high, but tomorrow morning it would be completely flooded just like the rest.

_Here we are, Monoblade. You wanted us to become fish, and I have become the fish. And to be honest, I’m enjoying myself there. Did you see this coming? Do you even care?_

He remained in the water for a whole hour, until his arms were too tired to carry him anymore. He then swam back toward the staircase, and put his clothes back on. Stupidly, he had forgotten to bring a towel, so his only options were: wait until he was fully dry, or put his clothes back on and look like a man who had just swum with all his clothes on. He chose the second option.

On his way back up the stairs, he noticed Gwenn sitting against a wall, looking half-asleep.

“You okay Gwenn?”

“Eh…? Uh, sure, I think. Hold up, why am I here?”

“Who can say,” Ryoji replied with philosophy. “I can carry you back up to Ikea if you want to have a nap.”

“I’d like that, actually,” Gwenn said with a yawn.

And so Ryoji cradled Gwenn in their arms, and brought them up the stairs, wincing a little from the effort.

“I expected you to be with Florian,” he said conversationally.

“Oh right, but Flo needs his time alone sometimes. I respect that.”

“How is he doing?” Ryoji asked politely.

“Not so great I’ll admit. His paranoia isn’t getting better. He took a crowbar from the workshop back at the other place, and he keeps on himself at all times, for self-defense he says.”

Gwenn snorted.

“A crowbar, seriously. He’s really funny Flo sometimes.”

Gwenn was speaking in a rather strange way (or at any rate it sounded strange to Ryoji’s ears). Perhaps they were drunk? It wasn’t impossible.

When Bob saw Ryoji carrying Gwenn like a bride, a curious expression adorned his face. He didn’t look jealous _per se_ , it was perhaps a sentiment closer to embarrassment, or vague amusement.

“Hey Ryo, why’re ya all wet like this?”

“I took a dip in the aquarium,” Ryoji replied as he carefully placed Gwenn on one of the beds. “I suppose I should get changed.”

“It wasn’t so dumb of ya to take a bath like this,” Bob commented. “’Cuz ‘s not like there’s a shower room anywhere ‘n this fuckin’ building.”

Ryoji frowned.

“This is an Ikea store… they should have replicas of bathrooms, with plenty of bathtubs and showers, right?”

“Yeah, but the taps dun’t work. Ya can’t turn them on. I reckon’ Magalie tried to move some hot water from the kitchen sink and pour it into one of the bathtubs earlier… dunno how that went for her. Seems like more trouble than worth if ya ask me.”

After Ryoji had changed into more comfortable clothes for the night, they went back to the Chinese restaurant to have lunch with everyone. The atmosphere was unbearably heavy. Aside from Florian who was guarding the armory and Gwenn who was still sleeping, everyone was present. Typhaine and Ferdinand had made soup for everyone – both of them looked relatively happy, but that was it. Rebecca looked like a prisoner about to eat her last meal before her execution, Aphrodite was frowning so intensely that it looked like her wrinkles would never go away, Magalie looked elsewhere, but the worst of it was Jordana. She had this look of utter resignation: she knew the conversation that awaited them, and had prepared herself for it.

“So what do we do?”

It was her who broke the ice first, and all the gazes turned to her.

“Come on, don’t look at me like that. We’ve all had a nice day pretending everything was okay, but it’s not. The kidnappers want us to kill someone, so… who do we kill?”

“No one of course!” Ferdinand shouted angrily. “It is better to die a brave man than to live a traitor!”

“What point is there to bravery if you don’t survive?” Jordana replied lazily. “But I can respect your opinion, I suppose. The others, what do you think?”

“I think it’s too early to make a decision,” Magalie asserted prudently.

“Yes, I agree,” Typhaine said worriedly. “We still have time!”

“But the more we wait, the harder it’ll be,” Jordana objected. “And what should we wait for, exactly? Is the water going to feel more _real_ somehow, when it floods the third floor?”

“Jordana, stop” Magalie warned. “We’re telling you we’re not ready, so stop pushing the subject!”

“But we’ll never _be_ ready,” Jordana replied desperately. “And...”

She looked like she wanted to say something difficult.

“And I know it’s going to be me,” she eventually said, sniffling. “I’ve never contributed anything useful to the group – the most logical thing to do is to kill me here and now. I know it. We all know it.”

She wiped her eyes, somewhat angrily.

“Why are we all lying to ourselves?”

“Jordie,” Bob said, slamming his hand on the table. “Will ya stop already?”

“Huh?”

“Dun’t look at me with those puppy eyes of yer! If tha’s ‘nother of yer stupid lil’ games t’earn our pity, ya can just shut yer fuckin’ trap!”

“Yeah, you’re not going to convince anyone with those fake tears,” Magalie added with a shrug. “So stop it now. It’s getting annoying.”

Jordana looked thoroughly confused, and horrified at the same time. She had been trapped at her own game: she had lied and cheated so much that no one believed her anymore.

“She’s not lying,” Ryoji said timidly, to everyone’s astonishment.

He looked down at his bowl miserably.

“Her pain is the real deal. She’s not faking the tears.”

He wiped his own watery eyes.

“I know because they’re my tears too.”

“Ryo-” Bob began.

“I… I just need a moment,” Ryoji cut in, suddenly getting up from his chair and running away from the room.

He needed a moment to be alone, yet again. His mind was buzzing with alien thoughts, there were so many that he couldn’t sort them out properly anymore. His own emotions were already out of control – it made it even worse that he had to absorb others’ too. It made him want to relapse: to hide once more at the back of his mind, where nobody could hurt him, or even reach him.

_But last time you did that, look what happened. Rebecca saw a weakness, and tried to use it against you. Is this really what you want?_

Ryoji found himself lying down on one of the beds. Had he fallen asleep? He didn’t remember lying down, and didn’t remember what time it was. The cat was sleeping on his belly.

“Hey, uh… are you okay?”

That was Gwenn’s voice, coming from somewhere.

“I’ve been better,” Ryoji admitted, trying to force himself to smile.

His eyes hurt too much, he couldn’t see very well. Gwenn could have been anywhere.

“I uh… I’m sorry for you,” Gwenn said awkwardly.

“Don’t be sorry, it’s not your fault,” Ryoji replied weakly.

It wasn’t anyone’s fault. Ryoji refused to pin the blame on any of his classmates – they weren’t responsible for his misery.

A little while passed. Ryoji was vaguely conscious that Gwenn was still standing near, but wasn’t paying attention to them at all. Hope woke up, stretched, and moved away from Ryoji’s belly, jumping down from the bed. Eventually, Gwenn spoke again.

“I… I think I can save us all,” they said, trying to sound firm.

“You what?”

“I have a plan, that might lead us out of here. Without losing two of us, and without going through a class trial.”

Ryoji opened his eyes. Gwenn was standing right next to his bed, standing proudly, fists clenched. Their eyes were burning with passion, or perhaps it was the blur in Ryoji’s vision caused by his tears.

“Really? What is it?”

“I… I can’t tell you yet. You’ll know soon enough though, don’t worry!”

“Oh, all right,” Ryoji said, not putting a fight. “Good luck then.”

“Meanwhile, have a rest,” Gwenn said gently. “We’re glad to have you back Ryo, but don’t exhaust yourself.”

Ryoji nearly cried because it was one of the nicest things Gwenn had ever said to him, and agreed keep resting. Closing his eyes, he nearly fell asleep again. His thoughts were drifting away, completely out of control. His mind palace was usually full of worries, but this time it was full of dreams.

Then it hit him. Rushing out of bed, he ran to the armory. The guard (whoever they were supposed to be) had already left, but Jordana and Magalie were inspecting the stocks.

“Jesus, there are so many weapons in here, this is going to take forever,” Magalie complained. “Why did I agree to do this?”

“I don’t mind, honestly,” Jordana was saying. “Whatever keeps me busy, these days.”

“H-hey there,” Ryoji said timidly. “Uh, once you’re done with the inventory, I think it’s my turn to be the guard. Right?”

They both turned their heads to look at him, and for a split second Ryoji was overcome with the irrational fear that they were going to shout at him to get out. But instead they said:

“Is it? I don’t remember.”

“Hold on, didn’t we write it down somewhere?” Jordana pondered. “We must have made some sort of planning for these things.”

“Yeah, there’s a file on the group chat I reckon’,” Magalie replied.

“Oh,” Ryoji said. “I forgot my monopad on the bed I think.”

“That’s fine, I’ll show you.”

He was still standing by the door, so Jordana abandoned Magalie for a short moment, and showed him his monopad. It was a little strange to do something so casual with Jordana, especially after what he had said earlier – but Ryoji was glad for the help.

“Look, it’s here,” she was saying, pointing to the file with her finger. “Indeed, you’ve been assigned the early night shift. Are you sure that’s okay though? You look a little sick.”

“I… I do?”

Thoughtlessly, she placed her palm against his forehead.

“You don’t have a fever, at least. But you honestly look like you could use a rest.”

“Don’t we all?” Ryoji asked with a heartless chuckle.

Jordana shrugged.

“I think we should have someone to replace you. I’ll ask Aphrodite if she’s around.”

As it turned out, Aphrodite didn’t mind taking the early night shift: she came with Rebecca, and they both told Ryoji that he needed to rest. Ryoji was glad to see them finally agreeing on something, and thus he left without complaints.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is the body discovery announcement. I know, I know, I delayed it quite a lot, my kids are stubborn and don't want to commit murder if they can avoid it - but you will have your case 4 soon enough. The trial is mostly written already, but I'm not entirely satisfied with it, I'm going to see if I can't upgrade it somehow


	41. Bertrand's Legacy, Battlefield, and Body Discovery Announcement

It was the middle of the night, and against all odds, Ferdinand found Jordana alone in one of the clothes store on the 2nd floor. She had brought white paint and a brush from the supermarket and was painting stars on the wall, as she stood on the counter. She wasn’t dressed as elegantly as usual: in fact, it was probably the first time Ferdinand saw her with pants on (rather than a fancy dress or any other type of expensive outfit). They were baggy and torn, it looked like she had borrowed them from Aphrodite, or perhaps Bob.

“What are you doing here?” He asked severely. “You should be in bed, young damsel.”

“I can’t sleep. I have a horrible feeling something terrible is going to happen, and the current circumstances make it extremely easy to believe.”

“Another of your intuitions? The ones you have so much faith into?”

“Precisely.”

“But even so, you are putting yourself in danger by acting so irrationally. Do you have no regards for your personal safety?”

“I don’t think I’m much safer during the day than during the night. Besides, I don’t really care anymore. If this is going to be my last day, I might as well be myself and enjoy it carelessly.”

Ferdinand shook his head.

“You give up far too soon, young lady! I concede that you have enemies on this battlefield, but you have some friends also. Why not rely on them in times of trouble?”

Jordana didn’t reply right away. She carefully washed her brush, and put it on the counter besides her. Then she sat and turned around to face Ferdinand.

“We’re friends now? You used to be nothing but my guardian. A warden, in charge of making sure I don’t hurt others again.”

“This used to be true, of course. But you know we are more than that by now. You, me and Magalie, we have been united by the times we spent together!”

“You me and Magalie huh?” Jordana repeated with a mysterious smile. “Is that all there is to it?”

“What do you mean?”

Jordana bent her back forward, adjusting Ferdinand’s hair, smiling deviously.

“I think you like me, Ferdie. A little bit more than that, even.”

Ferdinand looked away with dignity.

“A knight’s feelings are his own. I need not confirm nor deny these allegations.”

“Indeed, you don’t, because I already know. Remember that time, way back then, when I kissed you just to upset you? It was a lifetime ago, before Julie and Bertrand were murdered. I already knew you were going to fall for me. Am I not wonderful?”

“You are,” Ferdinand said passionately. “You truly are. Wonderfully devious.”

“If you were the hero, I would be the antagonist. If you were Adam, I would be the snake. Two forces drawn to each other, destined to embody different sides. However...”

“You do not share my feelings,” Ferdinand said flatly.

“Indeed. I like you, I really do, and I’d be sad if you were to die. But I don’t love you.”

“I know.”

Jordana kissed him on the forehead.

“What are you going to do about it?”

“Nothing,” Ferdinand replied with a gentle smile. “I will not grab the fruit that is not mine.”

“Pretty. You really are a good man, aren’t you? I hope you survive.”

She looked away.

“I suppose I should tell you, then.”

“What is it?”

“My intuition. It’s about Magalie.”

“Magalie?”

“Yes. I think she’s going to do something very stupid.”

Ferdinand frowned.

“Magalie is a level-headed woman. She would not do something careless.”

“I don’t doubt it – whatever she has in mind, she will have planned it out carefully. Of course, if I simply confront her about it, she’ll just deny everything. She’s stubborn – I doubt even you could change her mind. But since she’s so important to you, I suppose you deserve to know.”

Ferdinand nodded gravely.

“Thank you,” he said quietly. “I will keep this in mind. Shall we go to bed now? Before this floor gets flooded too.”

“If we must.”

She jumped down from the counter, smiled in the dark, and took his hand.

“Why were you painting stars?” Ferdinand asked quietly once they were in the stairway.

“To honor Bertrand’s memory. We didn’t know each other very well, but he stood up for me when no one else would. Sometimes I wish I could have helped him in return. But it’s too late now.”

**

Ryoji woke up next to Bob. With the limited amount of mattresses, they had to share the same bed (which Bob didn’t seem to mind at all). Ryoji didn’t mind either, because he loved his boyfriend very much, and it was a pleasure to see his adorable sleepy face first thing in the morning.

Well, morning… how did he know it was morning exactly? The lights never went out in the shopping center, and there was no hint of the weather outside, because of the iron plates blocking off the windows. He clumsily tried to fish out his monopad from this pocket, and found out that it was 7:33am. Yawning and stretching, he made his way toward the restaurant, but before he could exit the room, Rebecca tugged at his sleeve.

“Oh hey Rebecca,” he whispered (to avoid waking the others). “Do you need something?”

“Yeah, I’m not supposed to walk around on my own,” she explained. “For understandable reasons,” she added, sounding ashamed.

Ryoji looked around.

“Ah, Aphrodite is still asleep, I see. So you want me to look after you today?”

“Please,” Rebecca said. “If you don’t mind?”

“I don’t. Let’s go.”

Ferdinand was alone at the breakfast table. He looked pensive.

“Good day, friends!” He said, a little less loudly than usual. “I made a salad if one of you happens to be hungry.”

“A salad for breakfast?” Rebecca asked curiously.

“Indeed! It is very good for your health.”

“Oh, that reminds me, I should take my meds,” Ryoji said thoughtfully.

He had forgotten to take it the previous night. The pill tasted disgusting, so he gulped it down quickly with a glass of apple juice, before putting a large portion of salad on his plate. It was delicious, or perhaps he was simply starving.

“I have done a little bit of exploring,” Ferdinand announced as the three of them ate. “The first floor is no longer accessible. As for the second floor, it is naught but a giant puddle.”

“They weren’t lying,” Ryoji said worriedly. “They really intend to drown us all.”

“I wonder if they really do,” Ferdinand replied, chewing his tomatoes thoughtfully. “If they wanted us all dead, there would have been plenty of easier ways to execute us all.”

“You think this is all a bluff?” Rebecca asked.

“It is a strong possibility.”

“I’m not sure,” Ryoji admitted.

Breakfast ended in an uncomfortable silence. No one else came to join them, so eventually they parted ways.

“What should we do?” Rebecca asked once they left the restaurant.

“We could go to the bookstore?” Ryoji suggested. “Maybe there’s something relevant to the killing game in there. If not, at least it’ll pass the time.”

“I’m not really a book person, but I don’t really have any better ideas,” Rebecca said with a sigh. “Let’s go.”

It was obvious she was very uncomfortable being around Ryoji, and acting so casually with him. But she was making an effort to be as agreeable to him as she could, which he appreciated.

They sat down on the floor and picked up some books at random. Being near the ‘animal’ section, Ryoji had an opportunity to learn about farm animals, including the common chicken ( _Gallus gallus domesticus_ ), while Rebecca learned about the gray wolf ( _Canis lupus_ ). Time passed.

“I love these types of books,” Ryoji said with an innocent smile, after a short hour of reading. “Where else are you going to read the words ‘pre-copulatory waltzing’?”

Rebecca chuckled.

“Okay but what does it mean?”

“Oh, uh, it’s about courtship,” Ryoji explained. “I just learned that roosters seduce the hens by making a little circular dance around them. I imagine it’s pretty cute.”

“The more you know.”

“What did _you_ learn, Rebecca?”

Rebecca frowned at her book.

“I learned that wolves had been purposefully decimated by humans who wanted to protect their livestock, and that the wolf range is now a third of what it used to be.”

“A third?” Ryoji repeated in shock. “Poor things!”

“Also I learned that sometimes wolves will fight with other predators, and apparently they often have the upper hand, especially against coyotes.”

“Oh,” Ryoji said. “What a bunch of badasses.”

They kept reading for a while, until their heads were full. Putting the books aside, they went to the restaurant’s kitchen, where they began to chop some potatoes for lunch. Rebecca looked uneasy, and Ryoji could feel her stress. In fact, he could even see its physical manifestation: her whole body felt weird, as if it had been somewhat deformed by her guilt. Then he realized it was simply the literal tension in her muscles which made her look that way.

“Uh, do you want a massage?” He asked curiously.

“What? No, uh… no thank you,” she replied uneasily. “That’s kind of you though.”

“Oh, all right. I sense that you’re uneasy however,” he said prudently. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I just feel very bad about what I did to you,” she said very quietly. “I don’t think I ever formally apologized, did I? And-” (She quickly spoke again so that Ryoji couldn’t interrupt her) “-I know no apology can excuse what I did, but I wanted to say it to you anyway. Even though I might not deserve your forgiveness, I want to work hard and earn it, and earn Jordana’s too, because… because it’s the right thing to do.”

She was out of breath by the time she had finished her sentence.

“But I already forgave you,” Ryoji objected weakly.

“Did you?”

Rebecca suddenly sounded distant.

“Huh? Of course I did, don’t you remember?”

“Oh right, silly me,” she said, but Ryoji felt like there was more to it.

Still, he didn’t want to press her further, so he focused on the cooking. When they were done, they went to the main room, and put the food on the table. Typhaine was the only one seated.

“Uh… where is everyone?” Ryoji asked curiously. “I thought we had agreed to hold a meeting for lunch today.”

“I don’t know,” Typhaine said. “I didn’t see anyone.”

“Bob’s in charge of guard duty, I think,” Rebecca explained. “But I don’t know where the others went.”

She sent a quick message on the group chat to ask where everyone was, but was met with no reply. They all decided to start eating without the others. Then after a while, Aphrodite arrived on the scene. She appeared a little distant, as if deeply lost in thoughts.

“Good day,” Ryoji said politely.

“Hi,” she replied. “I’m not very hungry, is it okay if I skip this meal?”

“Uh, we were supposed to have a meeting though.”

“Oh, I’ll be back soon then. Just text me when everyone has arrived.”

And then she left. Ryoji felt his heart tightening a little. Where were the others? What were they even doing? In other circumstances, their absence would have been strange, but in this context it was worrying. He was thinking about Gwenn’s words from the day before.

_They said they could get us out of here. What did they mean? Why didn’t I question them more yesterday?_ _I can be so stupid sometimes!_

He put his fork down.

“I think I’ll go look for the others,” he said uneasily.

From the look on Typhaine and Rebecca’s faces, it seemed like they were as anxious as him. The three of them left the restaurant together, abandoning the food on the table behind them.

“Where should we go first?” Typhaine whispered, as if she were worried someone was going to hurt them.

“Ikea,” Ryoji suggested. “That’s where most of us have been sleeping, there might be someone there.”

The other two nodded, and they ran to the Ikea store together. The place was as quiet as usual, but before they could get to the bedroom aisle, they found something peculiar. In the middle of the hallway, a stool was resting on the floor, upside down. Looking closer, it seemed like it was squishing a tiny object which Ryoji couldn’t see. Out of a sheer reflex, he grabbed the stool’s feet, and lifted it off the ground. That’s when they heard the explosion: the floor shook, and Typhaine let out a scream.

“What was that?” She shouted in panic, shaking Rebecca almost furiously. “What happened?”

“It came from below,” Rebecca said, frowning. “We have to go and see.”

Ryoji ran out of the room, once again followed by the others. He felt like he was in a dream – in what other world did things like that happen? The adrenaline rush prevented him from feeling tired, and he barely noticed how fast he was going. He ran down the stairs four by four, and nearly fully immersed himself in the water once he reached the 2nd floor. Standing up straight, it reached as high as his waist, and he was one of the tallest among the group.

The water had always looked like a peaceful lake, its surface as flat as a mirror. Today it was an angry ocean perturbed by the storm, hitting the walls with high and unruly waves. Ryoji did his best to walk against the current.

“Where are we going?” Rebecca shouted from behind him. “Left or right? Should we split up?”

“Left,” Ryoji replied. “Can’t you smell the ash?”

He forced himself to walk as fast as he could, but it wasn’t fast enough in his opinion. Rebecca suddenly rushed past him, swimming fully-clothes under the water’s surface.

Once he reached the end of the hallway, a thick cloud of smoke took up most of the air, and a huge hole had been blown in the far eastern wall, leading to the outside (it was however too high for the water to spill out). Rebecca was walking in his direction, carrying Florian’s unconscious body.

“Is he-” Ryoji began.

“He’s breathing. But he’s been badly bruised. We need to move him to the pharmacy.”

Florian’s face had seen better day: he had a number of nasty bruises on the left side, and his hair was clogged with dried blood.

When Typhaine caught up with them, she was screaming. Jordana was carrying her, and that was a good thing, because without her help, Typhaine would have almost drowned.

“What’s going on?” Jordana asked in shock. “I came here as soon as I heard the noise.”

“Florian’s been attacked, and I’m moving him to the pharmacy,” Rebecca explained.

“Hold on! This could be a trap. Maybe there are other bombs in the area!”

“What do you want me to do?” Rebecca countered, angrily. “Let him bleed out?”

“For now let’s call Monoblade,” Ryoji suggested.

“I’m already here, actually.”

Ryoji looked up. Monoblade was quite literally hanging from the ceiling, right above them.

“How convenient,” Jordana said. “We need help, we have a wounded.”

“My doctors will take care of him. All you have to do is put his body in the elevator on the third floor!”

“Let’s go then,” Rebecca said with determination.”

“But let’s be careful,” Jordana added hastily.

With Jordana checking the road for traps, the group progressed slowly back toward the staircase. Once back on the 3rd floor, they put Florian’s body on the elevator, and watched as the doors closed.

“I hope he’s all right,” Rebecca said.

“Me too,” Ryoji said sadly.

“He was lucky, and so were we,” Jordana said dryly. “But now we have to go back down, and investigate what that explosion was.”

“Shouldn’t we look for the others first?” Typhaine asked.

“It would be too dangerous to split up at this point. Remember that whoever set that bomb was one of us.”

Guided by Jordana, they all came back down the stairs, and walked to the eastern side of the hallway. The smoke had mostly receded by that point, and the water flow was calm. Ryoji walked toward the hole in the wall, which he was tall enough to peak through. He could see the ruins of Lorient, the ocean, and the abandoned fields in the distance. The scenery was as tragically beautiful as ever, but despite his hope, they were too high for anyone to escape through here. If he tried to climb up the wall and jump down, he’d probably break all his bones and die.

_Not that Monoblade would even let us go that far at any rate. He probably has already thought of every possibility._

With a weary mind, Ryoji went back to inspecting the flooded hallway. There were pieces of debris of various size floating around: wood, plaster, plastic, glass, and even odd pieces of dark cloth which he couldn’t identity. He found no object that could help identifying the bomber, not in the hallway or in the nearby rooms. It didn’t seem like the others were any more successful than him.

“Well, that was useless,” Rebecca commented. “But at least we know there aren’t any other bombs in the area.”

As soon as she had finished her sentence, another explosion sound rang out. Ryoji was instantly on edge, looking around and trying to identify its provenance.

“Oh my _god,_ seriously?” Rebecca complained.

“Spoken too soon,” Jordana said with a giggle. “I think this one was from the supermarket.”

Entering the supermarket took a while, because the entrance was on the other side of the hallway. As always Rebecca was the first on the scene – when Ryoji arrived she was cradling a coughing Bob, who was injured in a similar way as Florian. Ryoji believed for a second that he was dead, and nearly fainted in horror.

“Another injured… what a day,” Jordana commented as she arrived on the scene, still carrying Typhaine. “But why was he on the second floor?”

“Look up,” Rebecca replied.

They all did as they were told, and found a large hole in the ceiling, where a shelf had partially collapsed and gotten stuck. Judging from its content, Ryoji could guess which room was above.

“Oh, so we’re right underneath the armory. He must have collapsed through the hole.”

“Do you reckon I should just put him inside the elevator just like Florian?” Rebecca asked.

“Yes please,” Ryoji said, breathing in relief. “Quickly, he needs medical attention.”

Bob was too stunned to speak properly, so Rebecca carried him out without his consent. Ryoji followed her like an obedient dog, up the stairs and into the 3rd floor. It was only when the elevator doors closed that he realized how dizzy he felt.

“I think I’m gonna, uh...”

The world was spinning a little too fast, dancing lights everywhere and blurring his vision.

“Hey, hey, Ryo?” (He was vaguely aware that Rebecca was grabbing him by the shoulders.) “Ryoji, stay with me!”

Her voice was distant, but he could feel her hand against his cheek. Was she… slapping him? Ow.

“Ryoji!” She shouted, this time more clearly. “Now’s not the time to faint!”

“I don’t feel so good,” Ryoji replied, feeling like he was about to throw up.

“Okay, I’ll take you to the pharmacy. Come on, follow me.”

She grabbed Ryoji’s wrist and dragged him toward the western side of the hallway. In the pharmacy they met Ferdinand, who was picking up some objects which had fallen on the floor.

“Hi Ferd,” Rebecca said as she went.

“Why, hello. What appears to be the matter?”

“Ryoji needs to lie down, so I’m taking him to the… huh?”

“What’s wrong?” Ryoji asked.

“The door’s locked. But why would it be locked?”

“Yes, I noticed it too,” Ferdinand said, somewhat anxiously. “You think it is a bad omen?”

“Definitely,” Rebecca replied. “After all these explosions, I’m willing to believe anything can be a threat.”

She looked at Ferdinand suspiciously.

“Where were you, by the way? Haven’t you heard the bombs going off?”

“I did hear them, yes, but I had another pressing issue on my mind: Magalie has disappeared, and I know not where she went. I have been looking for her everywhere, but this place is huge.”

Rebecca stared at the locked door blankly.

“Let’s hope she’s not on the other side of that,” she said bluntly. “At any rate, if we can’t open the door, let’s break it down.”

“Isn’t that against the rules?” Ryoji asked anxiously.

“It… it might be. Shit, what do we do?”

“Let us call Monoblade,” Ferdinand suggested.

Monoblade once again fell from the ceiling, knocking up the medicine boxes that Ferdinand had just picked up.

“A question for me?”

“Yes,” Rebecca said. “We need to go through that door, but we can’t break it down because of your stupid rule.”

“Ah, I see! That’s indeed a problem. Well, you know what? I’ll change that rule. You’re now allowed to break things as long as it’s not in an attempt to escape. Works for you?”

“Perfect!”

Rebecca left the room with Ryoji following closely behind her. They went straight to the kitchen, took a metal chair, and ran back to the pharmacy. Ferdinand moved away from the door, and Rebecca busted it open.

The room was quiet. Aphrodite was resting on the large bed, comfortably tucked underneath the covers. Her eyes were closed, her face wore a peaceful expression, her white hair covering the pillow underneath. Her neck was covered in blood, and the announcement rang as soon as Ryoji laid his eyes on her.

“Yes, yes yes! Fucking finally! A body has been discovered!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aphrodite's death portrait: https://imgur.com/a/b4hw879


	42. Uneasy Investigation

Ryoji was frozen in place, silent tears rolling down his cheeks. The room was completely silent, because they were all holding their breath. Aphrodite had never been more beautiful than on this very day. Her face was radiant with pure serenity. Whatever had happened to her, she had probably not felt it.

“Why?” He sobbed. “Why her? Sh-she was always helping us, always trying to do her best. She didn’t deserve this.”

Ferdinand and Rebecca didn’t reply. Ryoji didn’t move, not when his classmates entered the room one by one, not when they reacted to the discovery of the body, nor when they began to discuss the crime, and how they would investigate. He felt his mind detaching itself from his body, for his own sake. He wasn’t strong enough to survive another trial, not after what had happened during the previous one, and especially not without Bob to support him. He couldn’t do it, there was no way he could do another trial. Besides, what could he even do? He was no investigator, and now that Aphrodite was gone, they were all going to-

“Hey Ryo, are you okay?”

In the midst of shocked and angry faces, Typhaine was tugging at his sleeve.

“Huh?” He said stupidly.

“Ryoji, please don’t turn into a dog again,” she pleaded. “Please, stay with us.”

She looked utterly distressed. Ryoji wasn’t sure what that meant, but seeing (and feeling) someone else’s sadness helped him get back on his feet. He shook his head.

“Sorry, I just needed a moment. Do you want to help me with this investigation?” He asked gently.

“Me? I’m not sure if I’m very good.”

“We have no choice. We’ve lost our best investigators, now all we can do is try to learn from them.”

“We lost them,” Typhaine repeated slowly. “Lisa and Aphrodite are both dead. We have to do it ourselves.”

She wiped her eyes.

“Why did _we_ survive?” She asked with a tired glance toward the corpse. “So many people have died. It doesn’t make any sense.”

“I don’t know.”

Ryoji didn’t want to keep this conversation going, because the investigation was actually more important. He was vaguely aware that the others were assigning each other some places to investigate. He supposed he could always start with this place, and then figure out where to go from there.

“Monoblade?” He asked wearily.

The little robot came from the ceiling, landing on the bed between Aphrodite’s legs. Seeing him so close to a dead body made Ryoji want to throw up, but he contained himself.

“Is the water level still rising?” He asked, trying to sound as neutral as possible.

“Nope. This is indeed a murder and _not_ a suicide, so I have to fulfill my promise! But as for the water that’s already there, I’m not going to remove it. I need to keep the building in the exact state it was during the murder, it wouldn’t really be fair otherwise.”

“Okay, got it.”

Ryoji exchanged a glance with Typhaine.

“Let’s get to work?”

“Okay,” she said pensively. “But uh… something is weird, isn’t it?”

“What do you mean?”

She gestured toward the door.

“It’s definitely busted, right? When did that happen?”

“When we came in, the door was locked,” Ryoji explained. “So Rebecca had to break the door down so we could come in.”

“So how did the culprit get in?” Typhaine asked confusedly. “This room only has one door, and no window! Do you think there’s a secret passage?”

“Uh, maybe? Or maybe the culprit simply locked the door as they left, and kept the key on themselves. Or… they threw it somewhere. Anything is possible.”

Ryoji went to inspect the body. It was hard to tell because of the blood, but it seemed that Aphrodite’s throat had been slit very cleanly with a blade of some sort. The blood had only splattered on a short area around her neck, hinting that she had been cut very carefully.

_That means the culprit has been inside the armory at some point. Or they somehow used something else as a weapon…_ _but what could it be?_

Aphrodite also had an open wound on her left temple, and a bruise at the other side of her head – as if she had been hit, then pushed against a hard surface. Ryoji took pictures of both.

Aphrodite had always worn strange clothes, akin to military uniforms. There was probably a reason for that, but now Ryoji would never know. He shook his head, brushing the thoughts away. Regrets would have to come later.

The odd detail was that there was a hole in her outfit, a tiny round hole near her chest. With trembling hands, Ryoji undid the zipper on her collar, which revealed a bloody bandage, wrapped from her shoulder to her belly, and covering the left side of her chest completely. He tried to keep his hands steady, but they refused to obey. When he realized he couldn’t even keep his eyes on the wound, he gave up.

“Uh, Typhaine?” Ryoji called timidly. “You mind inspecting that wound for me? I… I don’t want to… I’d like not to touch her if I can.”

Typhaine looked at the corpse, and the bandage he was pointing to.

“I’ll do it. I dissected a corpse not so long ago, what’s it to me now? And at least it’ll be useful this time.”

Ryoji thanked her quietly, grateful to have someone to do the dirty work for him. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was nauseous just from the thought of what he would have seen underneath that bandage.

The room had very little in terms of furniture. There was a little medicine box on the table – grabbing it with one hand, Ryoji realized that it was a box of sleeping pills, similar to the ones Lucien had been taking. He opened the box, only one pill was missing. There was no glass of water anywhere which would hint that Aphrodite was the one who had consumed the pill. Painfully, Ryoji dared to ask:

“Typhaine, you mind checking her tongue? Uh… well, the inside of her mouth in general?”

“Got it,” Typhaine said neutrally.

She had removed the bandage and was taking pictures of the wound. Ryoji forced himself to look away. Later, he could deal with it later.

Ryoji returned to his inspection of the furniture. He and Typhaine were the only people left in the room, and it was no wonder: there was barely anything to see. A bed, a table, a trash can, and a little dresser, with four drawers. The room was perfectly ordinary in every way; there was no hint of a struggle, or that someone in particular had been in there before. Ryoji was excited when he found a bloody scarf on the dresser, but then he recalled that it was the one Aphrodite had been wearing at lunch, so it wasn’t really strange that it would be here. He opened the drawers one by one, and found a little key in the last one.

“Is it...”

He went to check if it was indeed the key from the front door, and concluded that it was. He locked the door to make sure he wasn’t wrong, then opened it again.

_Okay, so the culprit managed to leave a locked room without the key. How did they do that?_

Ryoji called Monoblade, asking him if there were more than one key of this kind, but was told that it was the only one.

“Right, so we have one of those locked room mysteries,” he muttered to himself.

He turned to Aphrodite with a sad smile.

“You would have loved those, wouldn’t you?”

Resigned, he inspected each of the walls one by one, and then the floor, in hope of unveiling a secret passage. Just when he thought his search had been entirely fruitless, his eyes fell on the trashcan. It wasn’t empty: there were two objects inside. The first one was a little bloody dagger, which definitely came from the armory. The second was a tuft of dark hair. He placed both items on the table, and took a picture of them.

“Who among us has dark hair?” He thought out loud.

“Gwenn,” Typhaine replied. “Magalie and Jordana too, though Jordana’s hair is more of a dark brown, now that her dye is gone.”

“Thanks!”

“I… I think I’m done,” Typhaine said uneasily. “But can you help me with something?”

“What is it?”

Typhaine pointed to Aphrodite’s temple, where she had an open wound.

“What’s the matter?”

“Look here,” Typhaine said, pointing to a more specific location. “I can’t really tell, but… is there just blood?”

Ryoji squinted. There was the blood from the wound, yes, but looking closely, Aphrodite seemed to have two little stains on her temple, which were a slightly brighter shade of red than the rest.

“It looks a little like paint,” Ryoji admitted. “I don’t think it’s actually blood, but I have no idea where it could be from.”

“I’ll take a picture then,” Typhaine said. “It’s gotta be important!”

“Thank you. So Aphrodite had a bruise… that’s odd. What else did you find?”

“I inspected the inside of her mouth like you told me, and found tiny little white powdery crumbs. I don’t know what they were, though. They looked soluble.”

“Probably this box of sleeping pills,” Ryoji explained, showing her the little box. “So Aphrodite _did_ consume one… okay, what about underneath her bandage?”

“A gunshot wound,” Typhaine said bluntly, her shoulders sagging. “It missed her heart, but it must have hit one of her lungs, I think. Also it went all the way through, because there’s also a hole in her skin… on the other side,” she explained, turning a little pale.

Ryoji nodded.

“Anything else?”

“Uh...”

Typhaine looked confused.

“You didn’t find a bullet anywhere, did you? Or a bullet hole in the wall?”

Ryoji shook his head. Typhaine adjusted her cap.

“Okay but then… where was she killed? And why isn’t there a trail of blood?”

“I can probably answer both questions, actually. I think the culprit wrapped the wound with her own scarf when they transported her here, so that her blood wouldn’t spill anywhere. And as for where she was killed… Aphrodite told us she was going to the bookstore when we saw her, right? So that must be it.”

“Killed in a bookstore,” Typhaine repeated slowly. “That’s… fitting.”

Ryoji shook his head. He gave Aphrodite’s body a last glance, and noticed that there was something attached to her right hand.

“Is that...”

He picked it up: it was human hair, and of the same color as the one in the trash can. It was quite short. He decided he’d take a picture of it too, before moving on.

Obviously their next destination was the bookstore, but Ryoji wanted to inspect the pharmacy first. They quickly found the shelf where the sleeping pill had come from, and noticed that indeed one box was missing. As for the bandage which Aphrodite had been patched up with, it was simply lying on the floor (it seemed to have been ripped out rather that cut). There were also a bunch of boxes which had fallen from another shelf: they seemed to be cough drops and painkillers. Ryoji recalled that those were the ones Ferdinand had been picking up – he ignored whether or not they were relevant to the case, but took a picture anyway.

“Lisa told me that it’s important to take pictures and notes all the times during investigations,” he said softly. “Because otherwise you risk forgetting something.”

Typhaine nodded slowly.

They found Gwenn and Ferdinand searching the bookstore. Ryoji knew Aphrodite would have questioned them, and taken notes of their alibis – but he was too afraid they’d react badly if he tried to do the same thing. He told himself he’d simply ask the question during the class trial.

“No need to investigate here,” Gwenn said severely. “I already found all that’s relevant to the case.”

“Ah? What is it?”

Gwenn pointed to the wall furthest from the entrance. There was a bullet hole in it, which matched the holes in Aphrodite’s clothes. It was a little more than a meter above the ground.

“I also found the gun,” Gwenn said, pointing a finger at Ferdinand, who was holding it.

“Where did you find it?” Ryoji asked, trying to ignore the unusual brutality of Gwenn’s tone.

“Just lying on the floor around here. It’s a rather common gun, with a silencer.”

“A what?” Typhaine asked shyly.

“I won’t go in too many details, but some guns have a built-in function which allows them to be quiet when they’re shot.”

“Got it,” Ryoji said. “And have you checked the bullets?”

“Only one round was shot, from what I can tell.”

“Okay, thanks. Anything else of notice?”

“Well, there’s the bloodstain on the floor, obviously. You’ll notice that it’s rather small, for a gun wound.”

“We have found evidence that the body was moved,” Ryoji explained.

Gwenn rolled their eyes.

“Classic. Who’s the culprit trying to fool? They _always_ move the body. Anyway, there’s also a smaller bloodstain on this shelf right next to the larger bloodstain. It’s already dry.”

Ryoji inspected said bloodstain. It was as high on the shelf as the average person’s head.

“Some of the books fell,” Typhaine noticed.

“Yeah. I took some pictures already. From what I can tell, there’s nothing else to see in this room.”

Ryoji should have found that behavior suspicious – surely someone trying to prevent him from investigating too much was up to no good, right? But he was sadly too gullible, and took Gwenn’s word for it. Still, as he was about to exit the bookstore, he noticed a little scrap of paper, stuck underneath the door. He picked it up: it only read “Florian”.

“This case is getting weirder and weirder,” he commented as he pocketed it.

“Where to next, you think?” Typhaine asked.

“Hm. I guess we should go to the armory? That has to be where the gun came from. And there’s also the question of all the explosions that we heard.”

Ryoji wasn’t feeling confident. The shopping center was huge, it would take _ages_ to inspect it thoroughly. What if the culprit had taken advantage of that? They knew that the investigators wouldn’t have enough time to go everywhere. What if they tried to hide evidence in the cinema, for example? Who was going to uncover their secret then?

They walked through the elevator room. Near the exit door, there was a large hole in the floor, which lead to the elevator room on the second floor, and the entrance to the supermarket. Ryoji was always uneasy when he walked near one of those: even though he knew he wasn’t going to fall if he was careful enough, the mere thought that the floor was damaged made him uncomfortable. This specific hole was shaped like an eight: there was a small base, and then a larger part, further in the hallway.

“Oh wait,” Ryoji suddenly said. “That reminds me, I need to investigate Ikea.”

“What for?”

“Follow me, I’ll show you.”

They both ran to Ikea together. In the hallway near the entrance, the stool he had picked up earlier was still there, lying on the floor. Next to it was the little object it had been concealing: picking it up, Ryoji noticed that it was a little remote of some kind.

“Huh?” Typhaine said. “Why is that here?”

Ryoji was sweating. He was beginning to figure out what was going on, and he didn’t like it at all.

“I’ll explain later, but I need more evidence.”

He put the remote on the stool, took a picture of it, then pocketed it. He then grabbed Typhaine’s hand, and went to the armory. Inside the armory, Jordana and Magalie were once again making an inventory of all the weapons (and dangerous objects) – and once again, Ryoji was too shy to ask for their alibis. Magalie had the easier part of the job, where she counted the weapons which were still on their shelves: Jordana on the other hand, was trying to gather all the items which had fallen on the 2nd floor after the explosion.

“Did you find anything?” Ryoji asked.

“Yeah,” Magalie said. “We haven’t finished our inventory yet, but Jordana noticed earlier that four bombs were missing from their shelf. Also, two detonators.”

“You’ll probably find that a gun was missing too,” Typhaine informed her. “Because Gwenn found it in the bookstore.”

Ryoji was walking toward the shelf where the bombs had been. They were little round objects with a cross shape on both sides, and came with detonators, sitting in a pile on the side. He compared them with the one he had picked up in Ikea, and realized how similar they were. He grew pale, but said nothing.

“These bombs can be stuck against any surface and detonated from a range of two hundred meters,” Typhaine read from the manual. “You just have to press a little switch on the bomb, then you press the button on the detonator. There’s only one, so it’s not like it’s very complicated to use.”

“That’s odd though. Any detonator works with any bombs?”

“Yeah,” Typhaine said after checking the manual. “Why?”

“I wonder why two detonators were taken, then. Does that mean two people had separate plans that included explosions?”

“Probably.”

Typhaine shivered.

“This place gives me the creeps.”

“Sorry,” Ryoji replied instinctively. “I think we need to go down into the supermarket.”

“Okay, let’s go take the stairs.”

“No need,” Ryoji replied. “Look, the hole leads to the top of the shelf on the supermarket. It’s fairly flat, and probably solid too.”

To show what he meant, he jumped down from the armory’s floor to the top of the shelf – it wasn’t particularly gracious, but it worked. Crouching, he inspected the supermarket from above. The shelves were really long, and lead all the way to the entrance, where the clients would have queued to pay for their groceries. He jumped down into the water carefully, joining Jordana on her quest for lost items.

“Hi,” she said neutrally, as Ryoji helped Typhaine get down (he kept her in his arms, afraid that she would drown otherwise).

“Any luck so far?” He asked.

“I’ve gathered most of the missing items. It seems we have a missing dagger, or I just haven’t been looking hard enough.”

“That wouldn’t surprise me,” Ryoji replied. “I found a bloody dagger in the back-room at the pharmacy.”

He showed Jordana the picture, then moved on to his own search. He glared at the ceiling: it had two layers, the lower one appearing to be some kind of cheap plaster, the superior one made of wood. The plaster was stained with soot, and seemed to have been damaged on a broader scale than the floorboards.

“I was wondering whether the bomb had been stuck to the ceiling or the floor above, but I think it was the ceiling.”

“But the ceiling is so high!” Typhaine objected. “You think the culprit climbed the shelf all the way up?”

“It’s not that difficult,” Ryoji replied.

Then, curious, he looked at the shelf itself. It was fully packed with rice and pasta – none of the boxes had fallen in the water, not on either side.

_Okay, that’s definitely weird. But what does it mean?_

He exited the supermarket through the door, still carrying Typhaine in his arms like a child. As he was about to leave the water and walk up the elevator, he noticed Rebecca coming out of the water. She was wearing a bathing suit.

“Rebecca?” He asked, blinking. “What are you doing?”

“Putting my talent to good use,” she explained, eyes shining with determination. “Which is why I’ve been inspecting the first floor.”

“You’ve been… swimming there?” Typhaine asked in shock. “You can hold your breath for that long?”

“Am I the ultimate swimmer or not?” Rebecca asked as she folded her arms, annoyed. “Anyway, I found this,” she said as she extended her arms to show a crowbar.

It was a rather large tool, red and gray, which felt very out of place in Rebecca’s hand.

“Did it come from the armory?” Typhaine asked in shock.

“I don’t think so,” Ryoji said slowly. “I’ll take a picture of it,” he added quickly.

“Here, take it,” Rebecca said as she tossed the crowbar. “Inspect it as much as you like.”

And she dived back into the water. Ryoji had to admire her determination. His picture taken, he walked back up the stairs.

“We still have some time, I think,” Ryoji said. “But honestly I don’t know where we should even go.”

“You found this little paper earlier, didn’t you?” Typhaine asked. “Maybe we should investigate that.”

“What do you mean?”

“There’s not so many places one can find paper and a pen. Whatever the culprit used, it might give us a clue.”

“Ah, the supermarket!” Ryoji exclaimed, face-palming. “They have plenty of notebooks and school supplies! We have to go back there!”

But their search of the supermarket was fruitless. If the culprit had used something from the supermarket, they didn’t leave any clues behind.

“Dammit, that was a waste of time,” Ryoji muttered, sweating nervously.

“That’s okay, that’s not the only place the culprit could have gone to if they wanted to find paper,” Typhaine said, probably feeling as anxious as him. “Ikea is famous for having these little boxes full of _crayons à papier,_ right? Maybe they used that!”

And so they ran up the stairs again, and Ryoji forgot to put Typhaine down until they reached Ikea again, exhausted and out of breath.

 _“_ _Zut de zut,”_ Typhaine cursed. “Why do they have to make these stores so big?”

“Let’s check… the bedroom area,” Ryoji suggested, panting.

Near one of the beds, they found a little box filled with tiny papers similar to the one in the bookstore. There were seven in total: each wore a single name.

“Jordana, Gwenn, Ryoji, Typhaine, Aphrodite, Bob, Rebecca,” Ryoji read out loud. “That’s it. I guess I’ll take another picture.”

The bell rang at the exact moment he pressed the switch on his monopad to take the picture.

“Investigation’s over, losers!” Came Monoblade’s voice from the speakers. “Move your asses to the elevator on the third floor. We have prepared a very special courtroom for this event!”

“This is it?” Ryoji asked in panic. “It’s already over?”

“We did our best,” Typhaine said, not sounding very confident.

“Oh god, oh dear. This is never going to be enough!”

“Ryoji, calm down!”

“I c-can’t,” Ryoji replied, shaking. “I can’t do it.”

Monoblade fell from the ceiling.

“Hey fat boy, if you don’t start moving right now, I’m going to be the one who moves you, and it’s going to be _painful.”_

“What more pain could I feel, at a moment like this?” Ryoji asked, barely holding back tears.

“Trust me, you don’t want to find out.”

Typhaine grabbed Ryoji’s large hand and directed him firmly toward the exit, and the elevator room. He realized he was still holding the crowbar, and tucked it in his belt. All the others were already in place. Rebecca was wrapped in a towel, someone had lend her a coat to wear above her swimsuit. Jordana’s always perfect outfit (this time a long red dress with delicate flower patterns) was completely soaked, and two of her nails appeared to be broken. Gwenn’s green pants were soaked as well, as were Ryoji’s – only Ferdinand appeared to be fully dry.

“So this is it,” Rebecca said. “We’re going to have to do a class trial without our best crime solvers.”

“Have faith in yourselves, my friends,” Ferdinand said warmly. “I am confident in our abilities: we will succeed in finding the culprit.”

“I hope Florian and Bob are okay,” Typhaine said anxiously.

She turned to look at Ryoji, who had a distant look to his face.

“Are you going to be all right?”

He blinked.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Probably not, but I’ll do my best.”

The elevator doors opened without a warning, and everyone poured in.

“Nine people,” Rebecca suddenly realized. “That’s half of what we used to be.”

“And we’re going to be even less when we leave,” Ryoji added miserably.

“Why did _we_ survive?” Gwenn asked, with the same far-away look Typhaine had had earlier. “What do we have that others didn’t?”

“There’s no point asking this question now,” Magalie cut in flatly. “Let’s just get this over with.”

The new courtroom was much smaller than the previous one. The north and south wall were huge fish-tanks, with all kinds of sea creatures inside, from the huge gray shark to the tiniest clown-fish. They were lit from the inside, which was the only source of light, projecting lazy curves all around the room, which made Ryoji a little dizzy. Hope was glued to one of the tanks, staring at the fish with intense curiosity.

Like always, there was a circle of witness stands at the center of the room, made of thick and sturdy wood: however, there were only ten of them this time. Monoblade was resting on his throne as always, Bob and Florian were already at their desk, each wearing the odd prison uniform. The only difference was the color of the stripes: on Bob’s, they were a dark shade of brownish red, while Florian’s stripes were green. Ryoji went to hug his boyfriend silently, taking the time to hear his breathing, smell his hair, and kissed him on the cheek, all done eyes closed.

“Are you all right?” He whispered.

“I’ve been worse. But the hug helps. Thanks, sugarbear.”

“Any time,” Ryoji replied, blushing slightly despite himself (though with the room’s dim light, it was probably hard to tell).

Ryoji nodded, and left him. His desk was between Ferdinand’s and the one with Aphrodite’s portrait. Part of him was relieved not to end up next to Florian again, but he was sad to be constantly reminded of Aphrodite’s death like this.

“You may begin whenever you like,” Monoblade said lazily. “You all know the rules very well at this point, so just… begin arguing, and ring me when this is over.”

Ryoji nervously licked his lips. Aphrodite had wanted him to be her partner. Did she really think he had what it took to beat a class trial? He didn’t feel confident enough, but he had to try at least – to honor her memory, and her trust.

No one was speaking. Wherever he looked, Ryoji saw nothing but doubt and fear. He could feel their emotions as clearly as some could see colors, and that in itself was enough to raise his suspicions on a certain individual. But was it fair to use sympathy in a trial like this? What if he turned out to be wrong?

“Come on, everyone. Speak up. We are never going to solve anything by glaring at each other.”

Ferdinand had opened the debate in a gentle yet firm tone, which Ryoji took as encouragement to open the debate.

“Okay. I’ll start by summarizing what happened to me this morning, because all these explosions and accidents were very confusing.”

And thus the 4th class trial had begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So for those of you who've been following the fic up to this point, great news! I created an imgur account, where I post art for all of the 18 main characters - if you were curious about their appearance, this may be useful to you: https://imgur.com/user/Guilhem9999/posts
> 
> Also, what did you think of the investigation? Any thoughts on the culprit? Don't hesitate to leave a comment, I love reading them!


	43. Class Trial 4 - Spring edition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cast of survivors (UPDATED): https://imgur.com/a/Gr0akrQ
> 
> (If you don't know what these links are, it's a roster that shows all the characters, alive and dead, with some fresh new art, some that can't be seen anywhere else!)

“I spent my morning with Rebecca,” Ryoji began, trying to keep his voice steady and loud enough for everyone to hear. “We were in the bookstore the whole time, but we didn’t see anything weird. No blood, no messed up bookshelves, nothing. It must have been something like 11:15 when we left. We went to the kitchen and made food for everyone. It must have been something like… 11:45 when we served the meal. But there was no one at the table, except for Typhaine, so we decided to wait for a little bit. That’s when we saw Aphrodite alive for the last time: she briefly came at the lunch table, but told us that she wasn’t hungry. Then she claimed that was going to the bookstore, and left us.”

“All right,” Ferdinand said pensively. “For once, we have more than one witness who can attest seeing the victim alive.”

“And the time-frame for the murder is extraordinarily short,” Jordana added with a thin smile. “Which means finding the culprit shouldn’t be too difficult.”

“True,” Ryoji said. “Uh next… we waited for a little bit, I think. We sent a text on the group chat, because we were wondering where everyone was.”

“I was in the armory,” Bob said, raising one arm like a school boy. “I was on guard duty, so I couldn’t move much.”

“We know,” Ryoji said with a smile. “It’s not your fault you couldn’t move.”

“Actually,” Florian said, adjusting his glasses (and everyone let out a collective sigh), “this is highly abnormal.”

“What do you mean Florian?” Ryoji asked gently.

He found that dealing with Florian was much easier when they weren’t on neighboring desks. He could even appreciate him that way. From afar.

“Allow me to explain,” Florian began, trying to sound neutral and very much not smug and annoying. “Bob was our guard for the morning shift, not the afternoon shift. When noon hit the clock, he should have been replaced by some other guard. Why did that not happen?”

“’Cuz the other dude never came,” Bob explained with a shrug. “I dunno who was s’posed t’replace me, but I couldn’t leave the armory unguarded, so… I stuck to my post.”

“A truly admirable dedication,” Ferdinand commented with a smile.

“Aye.”

“Looking at the planning, it seems that Gwenn was supposed to replace you,” Jordana said slowly. “Well that’s interesting. Where were you Gwenn?”

Gwenn and Jordana were neighbors, which seemed like an awful choice in Ryoji’s opinion. She was looking at them suspiciously, and they responded with a look of pure disgust.

“Why should I tell _you_ anything?” Gwenn asked venomously.

“Don’t tell me. Tell the courtroom, my dear.”

“Yeah right. That’s none of your business.”

Ryoji blinked. It seemed the whole courtroom was as shocked as him, and that included Monoblade.

“Uh, Gwenn are you okay?” He asked, trying to sound gentle.

“Of course I am,” Gwenn replied brusquely. “You didn’t finish your story earlier: finish it.”

“O-okay,” Ryoji said, feeling like he had been slapped. “Uh, Rebecca help me there please,” he begged, needing a moment to wipe his eyes.

“Sure. Next Ryoji and I went to check on everyone, since we didn’t get any replies. But we were barely inside Ikea when we heard the first explosion sound. We ran to the hallway on the 2nd floor, where I found Florian’s unconscious body. That’s when Jordana joined us, and together we placed Florian’s body in the elevator, so that Monoblade’s doctors could cure him. And then we went back down the stairs to search the hallway where the explosion had taken place. _”_

“Did you find something of interest?” Magalie asked.

“Not really,” Rebecca admitted. “Anyway, I don’t know for how long we searched the hallway. It might have been something like fifteen minutes, maybe more. When we heard the second explosion, we ran to the supermarket, where we found Bob lying unconscious in the water, and the ceiling blown up. Ryoji and I went back to the 3rd floor to put him inside the elevator.”

“Tha’s real embarrassin’, jeez,” Bob said, adjusting his beanie. “Who knew I’d end up becomin’ ev’rywun’s damsel in distress?”

“It’s not your fault you’re not explosion-proof,” Jordana said bluntly. “What next?”

“I brought Ryoji to the pharmacy, because he wasn’t feeling well. But then we ran into Ferdinand, who told us that the door to the backroom was locked. We went to grab a chair, and helped him bust the door down. And that’s when we found Aphrodite’s body, lying down on the bed. The announcement rang at this moment precisely.”

“What time was it, then?” Jordana asked.

“I have no clue,” Rebecca admitted. “Maybe 12:30? Maybe later? I didn’t think to check the time. I was too shocked from discovering the body.”

“Hm, I see,” Jordana said pensively. “Well, in these circumstances, figuring out who the culprit is shouldn’t be too difficult. Rebecca and Ryoji have solid alibis, so we can probably trust whatever they say; and as I said before, there’s not a huge time-frame for when the murder happened anyway.”

“Are you sure this is going to be easy?” Typhaine asked uneasily.

“Hey, cheer up! At least the crime took place during the day, that’s a first. We should thank the culprit for their consideration!”

“Thanking the culprit?” Typhaine repeated, eyes wide.

“I am certain the culprit appreciates your sentiment, but how about we move on with this debate?” Ferdinand suggested politely.

“Indeed,” Florian said with a carnivorous smile. “I would like to raise an issue, if nobody minds.”

“I mind,” Magalie said.

“Well I am going to raise it anyway!” Florian retorted spitefully. “I will not be bullied by you ungrateful people again!”

“Okay Flo, but please don’t say something stupid this time,” Typhaine said gently.

He shot her a fiery glare, crossed his arms and looked away.

“You peasants hardly even deserve my wisdom-”

“Cut to the point please?” Jordana asked. “I’d be _delighted_ to hear what you have to say, and I’m being sincere.”

“Did you notice something we didn’t, Florian?” Ryoji asked curiously.

“Not exactly,” Florian replied, adjusting his glasses and clearing his throat. “I simply disagree about Jordana’s assertion: this case might have some especially devious tricks for us to solve.”

“Like what?”

Ryoji knew that there was no way around it: the debate wouldn’t move forward until Florian had explained his theory. He didn’t expect it to have that much value, but in a fair debate, everyone was allowed to speak.

“Consider Aphrodite’s ultimate talent,” Florian began with a smile. “She was the ultimate disguise maker, was she not?”

“She was,” Rebecca said, squinting. “Are you about to suggest what I think you are?”

“I am. The body we found at the pharmacy might not have been Aphrodite’s body at all. It could have been any of us in disguise! The real Aphrodite might still be among us!”

“Oooooh,” Typhaine said. “I never even considered that! You’re so smart Flo!”

Jordana laughed.

“Oh, I so don’t regret asking you to speak up. Who else is going to produce such wacky theories in a class trial, but our local neighborhood rat?”

“No, not this time,” Florian replied angrily. “I refuse to let you make fun of me! My theory makes perfect sense!”

“Uh… does it?” Rebecca asked. “I know Aphrodite was an ultimate, but that sounds a little far-fetched.”

“It is not,” he replied stubbornly. “Aphrodite is still among us, pretending to be someone else! This case could have become the perfect crime without my wondrous deductive abilities!”

“Of course Flo,” Jordana said with a giggle. “That’s exactly what happened.”

“Do you have a rebuttal?” He asked, slightly challenging.

“Do I need to? There’s so many problems with this theory, I can’t even begin to count them all.”

“Aphrodite could have perfectly reproduced any of our outfits,” Ferdinand said neutrally. “However, she cannot change her own face. Makeup is one thing, but you would need plastic surgery to pull that off.”

“And it’s not one of those cartoons where you can just wear a rubber mask and fool people,” Jordana added. “That stuff doesn’t work in real life.”

“But...” Florian began. “She could have used tricks known only to disguise makers...”

“Such as?” Magalie asked. “Not to mention, even if she were capable of pulling that off, would she even have enough material at her disposal? All the tools were hidden in the armory, and none were stolen.”

“It’s basically impossible,” Rebecca said firmly.

“Thank you for your input anyway, Florian,” Ryoji said gently. “Uh, how about we move on then?” He asked uneasily.

“Yes, this is wise,” Ferdinand chimed in. “Shall we consider the murder weapon? That is usually how detectives start, I believe.”

“Good point,” Jordana agreed. “If we understand how Aphrodite was killed, we might get closed to who actually did it.”

“What did her body look like, though?” Gwenn asked. “Did someone inspect it?”

“I did!” Typhaine shouted, excited to share the results of her makeshift autopsy. “Aphrodite’s throat was cut cleanly with a blade, but she also had a wound on her temple, and a bruise at the other side of her head. Uh… and someone shot a bullet through her chest, but it missed the heart. For some reason there was a bandage on it when we found her body, so I guess someone tried to save her? Also I checked inside her mouth, and it’s clear that she had absorbed a medicine of some sort before she died.”

“You checked the inside of her mouth?” Magalie asked curiously.

“Ryoji told me to.”

“I had a hunch,” Ryoji quickly said, almost apologetically.

“Good eye Ryoji!” Ferdinand congratulated, placing one of his hands on Ryoji’s shoulder. “So. Thanks to Typhaine’s wonderful work, we now have a better idea of what happened to poor Aphrodite, but that also raises new questions: for instance why did she sustain so many injuries? And out of all of these, which was her true cause of death?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Rebecca asked curiously. “She was shot! We found a gun at the bookstore! Obviously that’s her cause of death!”

“So are you suggesting her slit throat was merely a distraction?” Florian asked, narrowing his eyes. “But what would be the point?”

“Uh… I don’t actually know,” Rebecca admitted.

“It’s possible both the gunshot wound and the slit throat were a diversion, and she was actually poisoned,” Jordana suggested.

“Or it’s just that she was attacked more ‘n once” Bob suggested. “Maybe the culprit failed to kill ‘er properly the first time, so they had to do it again. Or maybe they were just bein’ a sadistic weirdo.”

“Then what would be her real cause of death?” Ferdinand asked.

“The throat thingy, cuz the blood was all fresh when we found her, so it musta been the last blow.”

“I agree, I think her throat wound is what killed her,” Typhaine said meekly. “Because I heard in a documentary that you have very important arteries there, and that having them sliced could kill you in an instant.”

“Her dying near the pharmacy suggests that a poisoning is much more likely,” Florian objected.

“I still don’t see how it couldn’t be the gun,” Rebecca admitted.

Ryoji’s head was spinning. There were so many theories being presented at the same time, how was he supposed to figure out which one was the correct one? None seemed completely impossible to him, but he was certain Lisa or Aphrodite would have already jumped to correct assumption. They would have proceeded with a thorough and convincing explanation of what probably happened, and then the debate could have moved on – but Ryoji didn’t feel capable of doing that.

 _Don’t panic,_ he told himself. _Go one step at a time. It doesn’t matter if you don’t solve the whole problem right away: just stick to what you know_ _for now._

“Uh, may I say something?” He asked shyly.

“Why, of course!” Ferdinand said, very loudly to interrupt all other other conversations. “You may speak, Ryoji.”

“Okay.”

Ryoji took a big breath to prepare himself for what he had to say.

“I don’t think we can figure out the cause of death with what we know so far, but I’m still pretty sure Aphrodite wasn’t poisoned.”

“And what would be your argument?” Florian asked, trying not to sound too bitter.

“I found a box of sleeping pills next to Aphrodite’s body: I think that’s what she consumed before dying. But only one pill was missing, so I don’t think it could have killed her.”

“That is reasonable, but think about it: the killer could have easily set the box of sleeping pills on the table to mislead us.”

“But we checked the pharmacy too, and nothing was missing,” Typhaine protested.

“Sure, sure, but all these little boxes look the same, no? With one of them missing, who would even notice?”

“That’s not completely implausible,” Jordana commented thoughtfully. “But how would they have forced her to ingest the pills?”

“And wouldn’t she look all… messed up?” Rebecca asked. “I’m not an expert on the subject, but I imagine that Aphrodite would have… I dunno, thrown up or something. That she’d at least look a little pained, if someone had poisoned her. But she looked so peaceful on her bed there… as if she really _had_ died in her sleep.”

“Hm… I have to admit you raise some valid points,” Florian admitted, a little bitterly. “But does that mean we can reject the theory so easily?”

“Clearly, we cannot reach a verdict just yet,” Ferdinand cut in firmly. “So how about we move on to something else? Primarily, what happened to Aphrodite in that bookstore, and how she ended up in the pharmacy.”

“Yes, I suppose we could discuss that,” Jordana said. “The trick is to figure out what happened there, and then hopefully we’ll be able to link the ‘what’ with the ‘who’.”

“Aphrodite was shot in the bookstore,” Rebecca asserted. “We know that because there was a bullet hole in the wall, and a bloodstain on the floor. But is that all that happened?”

“No, she fought with her culprit too!” Typhaine said passionately. “That’s why there was some dry blood on the shelf, and some books fell over.”

“Are you sure that means there was a struggle?” Jordana asked. “Those who inspected the library, can you tell me what it looked like?”

“I was there, but my eyes cannot be trusted,” Ferdinand said solemnly.

Ryoji exchanged a glance with Gwenn, expecting them to speak up again, but they remained silent. In fact, they didn’t even seem to be listening to the argument.

“Uh, from what I can tell, the bookstore was mostly fine,” he said uneasily. “Aside from those few books on the floor, there weren’t many hints of a struggle. But, uh...”

“What is it?” Ferdinand asked gently. “If you have an idea, do not be afraid to speak up.”

“Yeah Ryo, say whatev’s on yer mind!” Bob shouted, probably trying to outdo Ferdinand in terms of supportive behavior.

Ryoji was very glad both were there to help him.

“I was thinking about the bloodstains,” Ryoji began, steadily. “There were two bloodstains: a little dry one on the bookshelf, and a larger one on the floor. It’s logical to assume the small one came first, right? Since it was dry, and all.”

“Makes sense to ol’ Bob.”

“That is weak reasoning,” Florian said coldly. “It could have simply been dry because it was smaller. Do you know anything about blood chemistry, or are you just spouting amateur nonsense to lead the debate where you want it to go?”

“S-sorry,” Ryoji sniveled. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Florian!” Rebecca yelled. “Don’t be so mean to Ryoji!”

“You’ve got balls attacking his reasoning, especially after the ridiculous nonsense you spouted when this trial began. Or all the stupid things you said in general, god knows we don’t lack examples.”

“Yeah, dun’t speak if ya dun’t have a better idea!” Bob added ferociously.

Florian clenched his teeth, but didn’t say anything. Ryoji stared at him for as long as he dared. Florian was almost always angry – he was like a volcano, ready to burst with hot lava at any second. That was why the previous trials had been so painful for Ryoji – standing so close to a man like him was very much like standing close to a fire: burning hot, painful and worrying.

But today was different. The volcano had been drowned, devoured by an ocean of fear. Florian didn’t want to admit it, but he was terrified – and Ryoji knew why.

“It’s okay,” he said, sniffling. “Florian’s just scared, because… I know what he did.”

“Eh?” Typhaine said. “What did he do?”

“Is he involved in the murder?” Jordana asked with delight. “Oh I really hope he is!”

“What are you trying to say?” Florian asked uneasily. “I never went to the bookstore. I did not even see Aphrodite at all today! Are you accusing me of murdering her?”

The more he spoke, the more his voice lost itself in a high-pitch, which made Jordana giggle. Ryoji shook his head.

“I’m not necessarily accusing you of murder,” he said prudently. “But I’m quite sure you _did_ meet up with Aphrodite. In fact, you even attacked her.”

He took out the red and gray crowbar from his belt, and showed it to the group.

“This is yours, right?”

“What…? Where did you find that?” Florian shouted in terror.

“I found it,” Rebecca said, arms crossed. “It was on the first floor, deep underwater. You tried to hide it from us, didn’t you?” She asked proudly.

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” Florian said a little too late, sweat running down his forehead.

“Jesus Flo, every fucking time you’re going to mess up the trials?” Jordana asked.

“Be a man, Florian,” Ferdinand ordered severely.

“Yeah, stop fuckin’ lyin’ to us, for fuck’s sake!” Bob added, exasperated.

“But this is merely a tool,” Ferdinand protested weakly. “It might not have anything to do with the crime – and even if it does, what proves I even used it!”

“Tha’s obvious!” Bob replied triumphantly. “Right Ryo? Shove it in his face!”

“Uh, sure,” Ryoji said with a weak smile. “Gwenn’s the one who told me this crowbar was yours.”

The look of pure betrayal that Florian shot at Gwenn made Ryoji feel bad for having spoken – but in a way, it only proved that he had been right.

“I never said such a thing,” Gwenn said quietly. “Stop lying, Ryoji.”

“You… huh?”

Ryoji hadn’t expected that.

“But yesterday you told me that-”

“I didn’t tell you shit. You must have misunderstood. Idiot.”

Everyone stared at Ryoji, then back at Gwenn, seeming to ponder ‘which one of them is lying?’

“Cut it out,” Bob said threateningly. “Yer not funny and I’m goin’ to punch ya if ya keep lyin’, Gwenn.”

“I’m not afraid of you,” Gwenn replied, probably a little louder than they had intended.

“Please,” Ferdinand said. “Fighting will not solve this issue.”

“I’m wondering why Florian would even walk around with a crowbar,” Rebecca said, apparently confused. “What could he use it for?”

“And I did not have access to the armory, might I add!” Florian shouted defensively. “Whoever used this crowbar, it could be one of the guards.”

“Oh really now,” Jordana said with a smirk. “That’s a weak lie.”

Florian looked like he was about to yell something in return, but he didn’t seem to find the right words.

“What do you mean, Jordana?” Typhaine asked.

“This crowbar isn’t part of the tools that we could have found in the supermarket, or in the armory,” Jordana explained. “And you can trust me, I had to do the stupid inventory _twice.”_

“But then, where did it come from?” Magalie asked (and Ryoji suddenly realized that she had barely said a word since the trial had begun).

“If I had to hazard a guess, I would say the old location, before we even moved to the shopping center. More specifically, the workshop in the first apartment suite. Florian must have had it on himself before we were moved, and kept it ever since.”

“That’s what Gwenn told me yesterday,” Ryoji said with a nod.

“I still don’t get it,” Typhaine said apologetically. “Why would Florian need a crowbar?”

“For self-defense,” Jordana replied with a smile. “Good ol’ Flo was acting all paranoid before all this, wasn’t he? Hiding a tool as impractical as a crowbar on his body for self-defense _definitely_ sounds like something Florian would do, doesn’t it?”

“Impractical?” Florian repeated, scandalized. “It’s not impractical at all! It’s both light and solid, and has a very decent swinging power, thank you very much!”

“So you admit it?”

Florian folded his arms angrily.

“Yes, I admit it that the crowbar belongs to me. And… and I apologize for lying.”

Each word seemed to be as painful as a nail being forcefully removed from his finger. Ryoji would almost feel bad for him.

“About time,” Bob said, rolling eyes.

“Your honesty is appreciated,” Jordana said with a bow.

“So in short, Ryoji was telling the truth, and Gwenn was lying,” Ferdinand said calmly.

“Yeah, what’s that all about, Gwenn?” Rebecca asked angrily. “You want us all to die or something?”

“I have nothing to say to you, murderer,” Gwenn spat.

Rebecca looked shocked, but didn’t reply. Ryoji raised one hand.

“Uh, I’m sorry, may I ask a question?”

“Go on,” Ferdinand said.

Ryoji turned to look at Florian.

“Uhm, all right. We now know that the crowbar belongs to you, so will you also admit that you used it to attack Aphrodite in the bookstore?”

“What?” Florian replied coarsely. “Of course not! This crowbar is mine, I admit, but it has _nothing_ to do with the case. I never went to the bookstore, remember? I’m not the culprit!”

“Oh really now!” Rebecca said, punching her desk in frustration. “And then why did you try to hide the crowbar underwater? If you needed it for self-defense, you had no reason to get rid of it!”

“I uh… I might have accidentally dropped it,” Florian mumbled.

“Ya think we’re just gonna buy that?” Bob asked, sighing.

“Liar!” Rebecca accused. “You’re just lying again!”

“Rebecca, calm down please,” Ryoji begged.

“There must be a way to prove he attacked Aphrodite!” She shouted with passion. “The size of the weapon corresponds to her head wound, right?”

“Was there any blood on it when you found it?” Typhaine asked.

“No… but that’s because it was at the bottom of the water. It must have washed off.”

“No need to look for blood,” Ryoji said quietly. “Look at Aphrodite’s wound again.”

He shared the picture on his monopad, and zoomed on the wound.

“You notice these little red stains?” He asked. “We thought they were blood at first, but they’re a little too bright for that. But I think it’s just the red coating on the crowbar that came off when Florian hit Aphrodite with it.”

“Ooooh,” Typhaine said. “That’s what those were!”

“Impressive,” Jordana commented. “Well Florian? Do you admit it now?”

“I’m not the culprit!” Florian shouted, letting out all of his fears at once, and beginning to cry. “You have to believe me, I didn’t kill Aphrodite!”

“Whatta load o’ crap,” Bob mumbled. “He’s a fuckin’ liar to the end, that one.”

“Florian’s not a killer,” Gwenn protested. “He would never do something like that!”

Gwenn furiously hopped over their stand, and stood in the middle of the circle, furiously addressing each member of the courtroom.

“Are you proud of yourselves?” They asked aggressively. “It’s so easy to accuse Florian of everything just based on flimsy evidence. Admit you don’t like him already! Admit you just want him to die, admit you’re biased because he didn’t make a good impression on you! This isn’t how a trial should go. You should all be afraid of yourselves!”

“You’re accusing us of what, exactly?” Magalie asked coldly. “He’s the one who lied to us over and over again. It’s more than fair to suspect him at this point.”

“Yeah, she’s right!” Rebecca added. “Gwenn, it’s cool that you want to defend your friend, but Aphrodite has been murdered, and she deserves justice!”

Gwenn was about to yell something at her, but Ferdinand raised his hand, and somehow that was enough to silence everyone.

“Please,” he said quietly. “We will get nowhere by yelling at each other like this. If these problems need being addressed, then we shall address them once the trial is over. In the meantime, could we please proceed with the debate?”

Gwenn didn’t reply. They shot Ferdinand an icy glare, and went back to their stand. Ferdinand thanked them, and asked Ryoji to proceed.

“Guys, I’m… I’m not saying Florian is the culprit,” Ryoji said, wiping tears from his eyes. “All I know is that he attacked Aphrodite in the bookstore. Maybe that’s all he did! But if we want this debate to go anywhere, we need to understand what happened. So Florian, please, just tell us the truth, okay? Just tell us everything that you saw. I promise I won’t judge you.”

Florian looked very out of place in his prisoner’s uniform. Not that it suited _anyone_ , but it looked especially strange on him: he who usually wore very clean and expensive clothes now looked like a common criminal. Ryoji finally understood what was the purpose of these uniforms: it was to make a certain person _look_ guilty. The brain unconsciously associated the stripes with jail, and adjusted its vision of the wearer to correspond to the new information. Ryoji had suffered from it on the first trial, and now it was Florian’s turn – but he was confident that Florian was not any guiltier than he himself had been, back then.

“I’m sorry I lied,” Florian said as he cleaned his glasses, sniffling. “I was scared, I was _so_ scared… I still am. I just don’t want to die. The truth is, when I woke up this morning, someone had slipped a little paper in my clothes, probably during the night. It was a little note, handwritten and anonymous. The person wanted me to meet them at the bookstore, at noon. I don’t know why I went – maybe I was foolishly hoping it’d be something harmless, or that whoever wanted to meet me had a plan to escape from this place.”

“But you brought the crowbar anyway?” Rebecca asked curiously.

“Yeah. Even though part of me felt hopeful, I was mostly convinced someone wanted to murder me. So I came a little early, alone, and I hid behind the shelves. I told myself that I wanted to at least know who it was, and that I could defend myself if they attacked me. Aphrodite walked into the room a little before the meeting time. She saw me, I panicked, I attacked her without thinking.”

“She didn’t try to defend herself?” Magalie asked.

“No, she didn’t. I don’t think she even realized what was happening. She probably never expected me to turn on her like that.”

Florian sniffled again.

“When I saw her body on the floor there, I felt so ashamed of myself. I wanted to call for help, but I was afraid I would have to explain what I did, and I didn’t have the courage. So… I ran away. I ran to the 2nd floor, threw the crowbar down one of the holes, and planned to hide in one of the rooms, so I wouldn’t have to see anyone. That’s when the bomb exploded and… I fainted.”

He put his glassed back on, and tried to awkwardly comb his hair with his fingers.

“In truth, I don’t think Aphrodite wanted to kill me at all. She seemed surprised to find me there. She might not even have been the one who sent me the note.”

“So that’s what happened,” Ryoji said thoughtfully. “You don’t remember anything else?”

“No. That’s the whole truth, but I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t believe me.”

“Yeah, like hell we’d believe ya,” Bob said mercilessly. “Ya lied to us twice now, ya realize? We can’t trust anythin’ you say no more.”

“Hm,” Jordana said pensively. “Florian _could_ be lying, but… considering the time Aphrodite went into the bookstore, and the fact that Florian was injured by the first explosion, would he have had enough time to move the body to the pharmacy? His story matches the evidence we found in the bookstore. Perhaps it really is the truth.”

“Of course it’s the truth,” Gwenn said bitterly. “Florian would never murder anyone!”

They stood up proudly behind their witness stand, daring anyone to correct them.

“This is all your fault. Since the beginning, you’ve ganged up on him, and that’s why he’s so scared all the time. What else could he have done, when he was driven into a corner like that? Even if he had told the truth from the beginning, none of you would have believed him!”

No one was particularly shocked by Gwenn’s speech, on the notable exception of Florian himself, who had probably not expected anyone to defend him.

“Is that why you lied to protect him?” Jordana asked quietly, glaring daggers at Gwenn. “You’re playing a dangerous game, you know. It could easily get us all killed.”

“You have no right to speak to me, and especially not to give me moral lessons,” Gwenn replied, their voices soaked with hatred. “You’re the bitch who’s constantly been missing with us, and who even attempted to murder someone before!”

“But I’ve changed,” Jordana said in a false angelic voice. “I can’t believe you don’t trust me! You wound my little heart, you know?”

“Shut up, you whore. You disgust me.”

“Fine, coward. Let’s move on.”

If Jordana had been affected in any way by Gwenn’s words, she was hiding it well. In fact, it nearly fooled Ryoji, and he could feel her emotions just as well as anyone’s.

_I’m going to go crazy if this keeps happening._

“I agree that we need to move on,” he said, once again trying to hold back his tears. “I’d like to discuss the… the gun incident, if no one minds.”

“Ah yeah, speakin’ of that,” Bob began, “isn’t it weird that none of us heard the gunshot? Ain’t it s’posed to be super loud?”

“The gun had a silencer,” Ryoji explained. “So it probably didn’t make a lot of noise.”

“Hey, I just had a thought,” Rebecca said. “Don’t you all think those explosions were a little convenient?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what if the purpose of placing all those bombs there was just a way to make sure we’d stay away from the crime scene?”

“That’s not impossible,” Jordana admitted. “It’s an interesting thought, it really is. But first, maybe we should discuss how the culprit even acquired a weapon to begin with.”

“Oh, good point. Florian had his crowbar, but how did the culprit get the gun?”

“It’s simple,” Magalie said. “Remember that Jordana and I made sure nothing was missing from the armory yesterday: if something was taken, it must have happened last night, or this morning.”

“You believe one of the guards betrayed us?” Ferdinand asked curiously.

“Let’s have a look at the schedule again,” Jordana decided. “There are three shifts that require our attention: the early-night shift, the late-night shift, and the morning shift. It says here that Ryoji was supposed to take care of the early-night shift, but I remember that Aphrodite agreed to replace him because he wasn’t feeling well. Next there’s Typhaine, who was in charge of the late-night shift, and Bob who had the morning shift.”

“So Aphrodite was one of the guards?” Ferdinand asked. “Interesting.”

“You’re not suggesting she took the gun herself, are you?” Typhaine asked in shock.

“No, she couldn’t have!” Rebecca countered. “Because I was with her the whole time, I would have noticed if she had tried to steal something!”

“Amusing,” Jordana noticed. “You can vouch for her, but she can’t vouch for you in return. For all we know, _you_ could have stolen the gun.”

“Hey now!” Rebecca complained. “That’s not fair!”

“So it is either Rebecca, Typhaine or Bob?” Ferdinand summarized politely.

“Either they stole a weapon for themselves, or they gave it to someone else,” Jordana agreed. “But it has to be one of those three.”

“It wasn’t me!” Rebecca shouted passionately.

“It wasn’t me either!” Typhaine cried in anguish.

“I didn’t betray no one,” Bob said grumpily. “I would never do sumethin’ so stupid.”

“Is that so?” Jordana asked. “But it’s impossible. One of you has to be lying.”

“But how do we know which one it is?” Florian asked despairingly.

“Well...” Magalie began, “it would make sense if Bob was lying.”

“Hey! Ya take that back!” He shouted, half-scared half-angry.

“But it’s pure logic,” she retorted. “If Rebecca or Typhaine had taken the gun or some bombs, shouldn’t you have noticed?”

“Eh?”

Suddenly Bob looked embarrassed.

“There’s like, a million weapons in there!” He complained. “How am I s’posed to keep track of all of’em?”

“That’s a weak argument,” Magalie stated neutrally.

“But it’s not enough to prove he did it,” Ferdinand objected.

While everyone was arguing, Ryoji decided to focus on the three guards’ emotions. Bob’s anger was mostly a façade: he was feeling terrified, probably because he was afraid to be voted for as the culprit. As for Rebecca, he didn’t sense much coming from her. No overwhelming emotion seemed to alter her speech pattern – she was probably telling the truth.

As for Typhaine… Typhaine was happy. Her facial expression was neutral, but he could feel it there, the same way he would never miss the taste of sugar in any type of food. Typhaine was undoubtedly happy about something, which was suspicious considering Bob was currently the accused. Did she have something to hide? If she did, it would make sense that she’d be happy to see someone else being blamed for her misdeed. Still, it was mostly conjecture – Typhaine’s happiness could mean anything. Ryoji realized he had been staring at her quite intensely for a full minute. She eventually noticed him.

“Why are you looking at me like that? Did I do something wrong?”

“Typhaine, it’s you, isn’t it?” He asked, not believing what he was himself saying.

“N-no, I swear it wasn’t me!” She screamed, sweating.

Ryoji felt bad for pressing her like this, especially considering he didn’t have any evidence – and yet he didn’t stop himself. Somehow, he knew he was right, and what he needed to say next.

“Typhaine, you can’t lie to me. I can tell, because whenever you lie, you unconsciously adjust your cap so that it can hide your eyes. So don’t try to hide something from me!”

He had spoken with passion, and had no idea where this sudden surge of confidence came from. In fact, he had no idea if Typhaine actually unconsciously adjusted her cap whenever she lied. He knew that Bob tended to adjust his beanie when he was nervous, and had inspired his bluff from it.

Typhaine looked shocked, and for a short while she said nothing.

 _If it turns out I’m wrong, I’m finished,_ he thought grimly.

“I’m sorry,” she eventually said, staring at her feet. “You’re right, I betrayed you all. I’m the liar.”

Ryoji was astonished.

_I was right? Oh sweet Jesus, I feel so bad now._

“Typhaine, you couldn’t have!” Rebecca shouted in shock.

“She could,” Magalie countered. “She just admitted it.

“Please tell us what happened,” Ferdinand asked politely.

“It happened in the middle of the night,” Typhaine explained in a monotonous voice. “Someone came to visit me-”

“Someone?” Florian interrupted. “Who?”

“I can’t tell!” Typhaine replied, cheeks red. “I promised I wouldn’t tell, and I don’t break my promises!”

“Ugh, great. Okay, so what did they want?”

“They said they had a plan to save us all, and they absolutely needed three bombs and a detonator, so… I gave it to them. I didn’t they would attack Florian! If I had known, I would have never given them the weapons.”

_A plan to save us all? Oh no. I know who this is._

“Three bombs and a detonator…?” Rebecca repeated. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Typhaine said firmly. “They didn’t ask for anything else, and I didn’t give them anything else!”

“But… what about the gun then?”

“I don’t know. Someone else must have taken it!”

“This is quite interesting information,” Jordana noted. “If Typhaine is telling the truth, then that means our bomber and our culprit are two different people.”

“We knew that part already,” Florian snapped. “That asshole bomber tried to kill me, not Aphrodite.”

“Is that really true?” Ferdinand wondered. “It might have been coincidental.”

“Should we discuss it then?” Rebecca asked uncertainly. “We still don’t know who took the gun, but… this definitely sounds important.”

“We can always come back to the gun talk later,” Jordana replied casually. “Whatever happened, it’s important we understand what this _mystérieux_ individual needed the bombs for. It might be connected to the case.”

“And even if it isn’t connected to the case, we’ll want to know who took those bombs,” Magalie added darkly. “Because that’s someone we’ll need to watch closely from now on.”

“Strange though, is it not?” Ferdinand asked. “Typhaine, you say you gave that person three bombs, but I heard that four of them went missing?”

“I know what I did!” Typhaine protested. “I gave them three bombs, not one more!”

“So if that’s true, that means we have two separate bombers as well,” Ryoji summarized, feeling himself getting dizzy again.

“It’s not absurd, when you think about it,” Jordana told him. “We had two bombings, so it’s logical that we would have two bombers. It wasn’t the same type of explosion either.”

“What do you mean?” Rebecca asked.

“First case, there was a huge explosion, the hallway was filled with smoke, and it took a long time for it to disperse. But judging from the hole that was left in the armory’s floor, it seems the second explosion had a much shorter range. Additionally, the smoke was less intense, and receded much quicker.”

“Now that you mention it!” Rebecca said. “So that means the first bomber used three bombs all at once, and the second only used one?”

“It would appear to be the case.”

“So uh, like, how did the bomb dude prepare his thing?” Bob asked, scratching his beard thoughtfully. “Did he, like, leave the bombs on the floor, and went to hide somewhere?”

“They can stick to any surface,” Ryoji said, “so I assume the bomber simply stuck them to the wall, right next to each other.”

“No, that can’t be right,” Florian said with a frown. “I mean, I know they were on the 2nd floor, which was partially flooded at the time, but anyone could have seen them!”

“I don’t think so,” Jordana countered. “I think the bombs were covered with something. You probably don’t remember because you fainted, but after the wall blew up, we found little pieces of torn fabric floating everywhere. It could have been a blanket, a towel, a curtain, or even a large sweater that was used to hide the bombs, and which blew up with the rest.”

“Truly?” Magalie asked, full of suspicion. “Wouldn’t that have attracted our attention regardless?”

“Much less than three bombs lying in the open, at any rate.”

“That’s all well and good, but what was even the point?” Rebecca asked in frustration. “Why would anyone set these bombs here? They had no way of knowing Florian would go to the 2nd floor, did they?”

“Maybe they did, if they’re the ones who gave me that anonymous note,” Florian replied.

“In that case, wouldn’t the note say to go to the 2nd floor, and not the bookstore?”

“Logically, it should,” Ferdinand agreed. “So we must conclude that there was some other purpose.”

“Maybe they wanted to escape?” Bob suggested. “Ya blow up a wall, ya have a hole, and if ya climb down, yer free! I mean, I wouldn’t expect it to work, but it’s a possibility.”

Ryoji’s eyes shot wide. Bob’s comment had suddenly reminded him of a very important rule, which changed his whole perspective on the incident.

“Wait, wait, guys!” He said, growing pale. “Damaging the building’s property is specifically forbidden by the rules, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Jordana said. “Unless it’s part of a murder plot.”

“Wait, are you saying that it means the bombings were part of the murder plan?” Magalie asked, frowning.

“Obviously they must be,” Florian said, rolling eyes. “Otherwise, someone would have been executed by now.”

“I’m not… I’m not sure, actually,” Ryoji said.

“Whatdja mean?” Bob asked curiously.

Ryoji looked at the tank, taking a moment to glare at the fish, swimming peacefully. The sight was oddly relaxing.

“I know the person who triggered the explosion didn’t plan to commit a murder. Because it’s me.”

“You?” Typhaine squeaked. “That’s not possible!”

“Is that a confession?” Gwenn asked suspiciously.

“Is that a lie?” Jordana asked curiously.

“I don’t mean I did it on purpose,” Ryoji hastily explained. “It was a trap.”

“All right everyone,” Ferdinand said, raising one hand. “Please quit talking and allow Ryoji to explain himself, will you not?”

His request was accepted by everyone, to Ryoji’s surprise. Ryoji had no idea why Ferdinand was so adamant about supporting him, but he wasn’t complaining. He gave him a sincere smile, and began to talk.

“I found a stool in the middle of the entrance at Ikea this morning,” he explained. “It was just a little after noon, when Rebecca and I were looking for everyone for the lunch meeting. As soon as I grabbed the stool, I heard the sound of the explosion – and when I came back later, I found that the stool had been crushing a remote controller.”

“Oh,” Typhaine said, suddenly realizing.

“Yeah,” Ryoji said sadly. “It was a trap, and I fell for it. It wasn’t a remote, it was the detonator for the bombs. The stool kept the button continually pressed: by removing the stool, I un-pressed it, thus triggering the sensor.”

“I see,” Jordana said. “That makes sense, but it’s quite puzzling. What would be the point of such a trap?”

“Maybe the culprit hoped sum’one’d get caught in the explosion?” Bob suggested. “That’d make ya the murderer, and we could’ve escaped.”

“That’s very unlikely,” Florian retorted. “We didn’t have all that many reasons to go to the 2nd floor, because it was flooded. I nearly died in the explosion, but that was highly coincidental. Would the person who stole the bomb really risk that much for such an uncertain plan?”

“Maybe it didn’t go as planned,” Jordana replied. “Maybe the bomber had planned for someone to be on the 2nd floor when Ryoji triggered the trap, but that person refused to do as they said.”

“Okay, but how did they know when Ryoji would trigger the trap anyway?” Rebecca asked.

“That’s really really strange,” Magalie sighed, fiddling with her braid.

“But we must figure out what the plan was,” Ferdinand said, frowning. “And why Ryoji was not executed for breaking the wall.”

“Eh?” Typhaine asked. “Why would he get punished?”

“The rules forbid it. Even though he had no intention of breaking a wall, his actions led to the destruction of a wall regardless.”

“Oh wait,” Jordana suddenly said, snapping her fingers. “What if that was the whole point?”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe that’s what the bomber wanted to do: they wanted to force someone to break the rules, so they’d be executed!”

“But that’s horrible!” Typhaine shouted in shock. “Who’d do something like this?”

“I don’t know yet. But if that’s what happened, that would be a very clever murder plot.”

“I...”

Ryoji had finally opened his mouth, but he wasn’t sure if he should be talking. Jordana’s idea had helped him solve the puzzle: and thanks to Gwenn’s earlier confession, he knew who had set up the trap. But he felt reluctant to reveal it – he knew it would have terrible repercussions, and it was completely unrelated to the case.

“What is the matter, Ryoji?” Ferdinand asked softly. “Are you afraid to speak the truth?”

“Ryo, ya know I have yer back,” Bob added with a thumb up. “I’ll always defend you, no matter what.”

“Why are you hesitating?” Jordana asked. “Have you figured something out?”

Ryoji nodded.

“Don’t ever feel bad for telling the truth, Ryoji,” Ferdinand said, closing his eyes and placing one hand on his heart. “The truth knows no sides: it is simply the state of the world. Whatever you discovered, you must tell us, for the sake of the truth.”

His speech was welcome with a respectful silence. Ryoji took a deep breath.

“Right. Okay, sorry, I can do it now. I am… accusing Gwenn of murder,” he added, very quietly.

“Gwenn?” Jordana repeated, surprised. “Well that’s not what I expected.

“Gwenn?” Florian repeated. “No, there must be some kind of mistake. Gwenn would never do something like this!”

He looked at Gwenn expectantly, but they didn’t look back at him, nor did they say anything to defend themselves.

“Ryoji, what do you mean?” Rebecca asked. “How do you know it’s Gwenn who did it?”

“Your case’d better be convincing,” Florian added threateningly. “If you’re accusing them based on flimsy evidence, you’ll regret the day you were born!”

Ryoji shook his head.

“I’m sorry Florian, I’m not 100% sure yet. I’ll explain what I think happened, and you’ll point out any flaws in my reasoning, okay? You don’t mind?”

Florian didn’t seem to expect such a gentle approach. He folded his arms and nodded, his eyes shining with determination.

“It all started yesterday,” Ryoji explained. “I wasn’t feeling great, so Gwenn tried to cheer me up. They told me that they had a plan to save us, that didn’t include going through a class trial. At the time I didn’t know what it meant, but now I think I understand.”

“Me too,” Jordana said with a smile.

“Gwenn played by the rules,” Ryoji continued. “Monoblade stated things quite clearly: if we wanted to escape from this place, if we wanted to avoid drowning, we had to kill someone. So Gwenn set a trap in Ikea: whoever would fall for it should, in all logic, be executed. Thus Gwenn’s action would have resulted in someone’s death, without them actually becoming a ‘culprit’, by the rule’s standard anyway. If things had worked out, I would have been executed, but the rest of you would have been spared. It was a plan with a strong advantage: only one person had to die, and none of us had to stain their hands. In a way, I’m almost sad it didn’t work.”

A long silence welcomed his words. Everyone was staring at Gwenn with a mixture of pity and disgust.

“I don’t like this,” Rebecca confessed. “I really don’t.”

“Mathematically speaking, it holds up,” Magalie countered. “It was a clever plan, made to cut the losses. It’s cruel and heartless, but… it’s not all bad.”

“I have to admit, I’m impressed,” Jordana admitted. “I never expected you to be so calculating, Gwenn. Not to mention, you never targeted someone specifically: you let random chance decide our fate. That’s almost fair, in a strange way.”

“Gwenn still hasn’t confirmed these allegations,” Florian countered weakly.

“Do I need to?” Gwenn asked. “It’s obvious Ryoji is right. He’s not lying.”

Gwenn wiped their eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Ryoji. I’m so sorry everyone. I’m...”

They didn’t seem capable of saying anything else. They were wiping their eyes furiously, sniffling, until Jordana gave them a handkerchief out of pity.

Bob removed his beanie carefully, folded it, and placed it on the stand in front of him. It was a very old object, brown and full of holes, its colors faded with time and use. He almost looked naked without it.

“I’ma say sumethin’: I’m very fuckin’ pissed at y’all tryin’ to kill my boyfriend,” he said furiously, his voice very low and steady. “I’m warnin’ y’all: there’ll be consequences. I won’t let this stand, ya fuckin’ hear me?”

“Duly noted,” Rebecca said darkly.

Gwenn said nothing.

“And what ‘bout ya Flo? Ya nearly fuckin’ died too there. Ain’tcha gonna say sumethin’?”

“No,” Florian said, dejectedly. “I honestly don’t care anymore. Kill me, fry me, burn me, go ahead, have fun. I won’t fight, I won’t resist, just… I’m tired. I’ve had enough.”

“Flo,” Gwenn said weakly.

“Shut up. I don’t want to hear your stupid voice. Besides, don’t we have work to do, instead of moping like that? We still haven’t caught the bastard who killed Aphrodite. What the hell are we even waiting for?”

“Before we do that, I have a question,” Magalie chimed in. “I’s a simple one, really. Why did Gwenn’s plan fail? By all means, it should have succeeded. I’m not saying I want Ryoji to die, but… we have to understand the rules if we want to protect ourselves.”

“This is wise,” Ferdinand agreed. “Monoblade, what say you?”

“Oh, you finally remembered I existed?” Monoblade asked curiously. “Well, if you want an explanation, here it is: remember who the rules are for.”

“Who the rules are for…?” Typhaine repeated.

“They’re meant to advantage _me_ , not you,” Monoblade explained. “The rules are only here to keep you messy kids in check. I’m not going to let some smartass play around loopholes to avoid the super fun class trials, I mean, who do you take me for?”

“So the rules are just dummies,” Jordana said, pouting. “They’re another way of saying that you do whatever you want, right?”

“Won’t the audience care if you break a rule?” Rebecca asked. “We know this killing game is being broadcast, so don’t lie to us!”

“Oh, but I didn’t violate my own rules, did I?” Monoblade asked, tilting his head to one side. “I mean, look at the rules again. They state that you’re not allowed to intentionally break my property unless you’re planning a murder – but Ryoji never _intentionally_ planned to wreck my property, did he? As for Gwenn, they _did_ intend to break it, but they never actually broke anything themselves. So all in all, no one broke any rules, me included!”

Magalie narrowed her eyes.

“Yeah right. How convenient.”

“It’s always convenient for the mastermind!” Monoblade said cheerfully.

“And what will you do if we use this loophole again?” Jordana challenged.

“That won’t happen, because I’m removing this rule from the list!”

“You what?”

“You’re now officially allowed to break everything in my property if you so desire!” Monoblade shouted, raising his arms in the air. “Break the walls, break the furniture, break the roof, who cares! You’re not going to escape anyway, so why do I care?”

“Uh… sure thing,” Jordana said, squinting.

Gwenn fell to their knees, banging their head loudly against the wood. Jordana caught them right before they hit the floor.

“Oh shit, I think they fainted.”

“They what?” Monoblade asked. “Someone slap this idiot! Throw a glass of water at their stupid face!”

“No no no no,” Ryoji said anxiously. “None of that.”

“But they have to stay with us! It’d be a crime if they missed the rest of this exciting trial.”

“Then why not give us a break?” Ferdinand asked. “Would that be all right?”

Monoblade seemed to ponder this for a short moment.

“Fine,” he said eventually. “I’ll give you fifteen minutes. But if they don’t wake up by then, my doctors will _force_ them to wake up, and they’re probably not going to like it.”

“Oh thank god,” Ryoji said, falling to the floor, exhausted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ryoji doing the 'sore wa chigau yo' thing: https://imgur.com/C08RB5p (art is still done by me)


	44. Class Trial 4 - Summer Edition

Ryoji didn’t know what Monoblade expected his students to do with their break: he spent it lying down on the floor, resting his eyes. It wasn’t very comfortable, but he was so tired that he didn’t care. There were still many mysteries about the case, and even though he had strong suspicions concerning a certain individual, he was pretty sure uncovering all the mysteries wasn’t going to be easy. He was going to need all of his strength for the second half, thus the rest.

Bob was lying down next to him. They hadn’t even needed to exchange a few words: they knew they wanted to be with each other, but in silence. The physical contact they shared was enough for now. Maybe later they would talk, but for the time being, that was unnecessary. Ryoji only needed to hear the sound of his lover’s breathing. It helped him relax. There was also a cat, sleeping near him, and purring quietly. Hope’s presence reminded Ryoji of Lisa, and as he rested, he tried to not drown in his own sadness.

He was vaguely aware that Gwenn was still unconscious in Ferdinand’s arms, somewhere near him. He was also vaguely aware that Magalie and Jordana were gently trying to wake them, and that Typhaine was asking Monoblade for a glass of water. On the one hand, he could hear each of the words that were said very clearly, and on the other hand they felt like an unreal cloud of gibberish that didn’t really have a meaning in his own personal universe. He didn’t really need to know what was going on, or rather he didn’t _want_ to. He wanted his head to remain completely empty – though that wasn’t possible, ‘mostly empty’ would do. He focused his mind on calming images like fields and rivers and cascades and forests and mountains, in the hope that he’d feel a little better when the time to resume the trial would come.

Maybe he fell asleep at some point. He vaguely remembered Bob shaking him softly, and then somehow he was back on his feet, hands on his stand, breathing slowly. Gwenn was awake again, drinking a glass of water. Typhaine was cradling Hope in her arms, Magalie was fiddling with her braid, Florian was glaring at the fish-tank with a far-away look. Some days later, Ryoji would be told that the break had actually been half an hour long (instead of the given fifteen minutes), and it wouldn’t surprise him all that much.

“Ugh, I don’t want to resume the debate now,” Rebecca complained, rubbing her eyes. “It’s going to be painful again.”

“We must be strong,” Ferdinand reminded her. “We owe the deceased that much, do we not?”

“I guess you’re right.”

“Where were we?” Jordana asked with a yawn.

“Finding the culprit,” Florian said in a completely flat tone. “After a useless intermission regarding certain traps and bombs, we collectively agreed to return to the question of how the gun left the armory.”

“We never agreed to do that-” Rebecca began, but Ferdinand silenced her with a quick gaze.

“We might as well discuss it,” Jordana admitted. “Since the bombing turned out to be completely irrelevant to the case, we still have to find out who took the gun.”

“So we’re back to suspecting the guards?” Rebecca asked.

“They’re the only ones who had an opportunity to take the gun,” Magalie said with a shrug. “Considering Typhaine already admitted to giving Gwenn the bombs, I don’t think she’s hiding anything else. So it’s either Bob or Rebecca.”

“I told you, I was with Aphrodite the whole time,” Rebecca said in frustration. “Even if I wanted to take a gun, I couldn’t!”

“We already told you, that can’t be proven,” Jordana said with a smug smile. “Unless you want us to hold a séance and ask her ghost if you’re telling the truth?”

“Don’t make fun of me,” Rebecca warned.

“Or what, you’ll punch me again? That’d only be the third time I get punched since the beginning of this killing game. Eventually one of those will _actually_ kill me!” She said with a heartless laugh. “Or maybe I’ll start to secretly enjoy it, who knows?”

“Please,” Ferdinand said politely. “This will not get us anywhere.”

“Besides, it could still be Bob,” Magalie said, thoughtfully fiddling with her braid. “Though it would be quite ironic, considering the bomb’s explosion nearly killed him.”

“Yeah, thanks a lot to whoever’s responsible,” Bob added grumpily.

“How can we prove which one of them did it?” Gwenn asked. “Do we have any evidence?”

Ryoji was thinking, and thinking some more, but he found no way to solve the problem. He couldn’t bluff a second time, and he didn’t even have a hunch to follow. It would have been so easy for the culprit to meet up with a guard when no one was around – some words exchanged, a gun vanishing from its shelf, and they were gone. That kind of action didn’t leave any evidence behind, unless the person conveniently dropped something that belonged to them in the armory, and even that kind of evidence could be tampered with. If someone had seen them waking up at night, they would have come forward by now. How was he supposed to figure it out?

“Maybe we should look at things from another angle,” he said out loud, trying to help himself think.

“I like the sound of that,” Jordana said. “What do you have in mind?”

“Uh… well we could consider the evidence left at the bookstore, maybe?”

“We have a bloodstain and a bullet hole,” Florian said flatly. “What can we deduce from those?”

“Ah, I know!” Typhaine shouted, bouncing a little. “How about we look at the inclination of the bullet hole? That way we’ll know if the culprit was taller or shorter than Aphrodite!”

“I already checked that,” Gwenn explained. “The shooter was of average height. Honestly it could be any of us, except you probably.”

“You’d have to raise your arms while you hold the gun,” Jordana said, mimicking the gesture. “Which would be funny-looking, but probably very impractical.”

“So Typhaine ain’t the culprit,” Bob concluded. “Hey, it’s good to know! Ya can thank Ryo for that!”

“Thank you Ryoji!” Typhaine beamed.

“You’re welcome, obviously,” Ryoji replied with a blush.

“Oh, oh, oh, there’s also that little paper you found!” Typhaine added excitedly. “We never talked about it, did we?”

Ryoji scratched his beard. In fact, he had completely forgotten about the little paper, up until that point.

“Whatcha talkin’ ‘bout?” Bob asked. “Wha’s this lil’ paper?”

Ryoji fished through his pocket, and showed the courtroom the paper with Florian’s name on it.

“I found this at the bookstore,” he explained. “It was stuck underneath the exit door.”

“I can’t read it from here,” Magalie admitted. “What does it say?”

Ryoji glared at her intensely.

“It’s Florian’s name,” he explained. “But that’s not everything. There was a little box at Ikea, near our beds, which was full of little papers like these.”

“Oh,” Jordana said. “Oh that’s _fascinating.”_

“Why?” Rebecca asked. “What does it mean?”

“I don’t know,” Ryoji admitted. “I don’t understand why anyone would need to write little papers with our names like that.”

“Come on,” Jordana teased. “Use your brain. There’s one easy explanation that comes to mind.”

“Uh… is there?” Ryoji asked, feeling very stupid.

“I think it’s a lottery,” Gwenn whispered. “The point of these papers is to choose someone at random, right?”

“That’s what I think too,” Jordana approved. “More specifically, I think these papers were designed to choose a target.”

“You lost me there,” Rebecca admitted. “Why can’t the culprit just… choose someone on their own?”

“Consider our situation. Monoblade has threatened to kill us all if we didn’t commit a murder. It’s possible our culprit sought to sacrifice one person and themselves to save the whole group. But choosing a specific person to sacrifice, now that’s just inhumane, right? If you let random chance decide, your hands are clean, metaphorically speaking.”

“That makes sense,” Ferdinand admitted. “After all, Gwenn too sought to choose a victim at random, when they set their trap with the bombs. It is not too absurd to think our culprit would have had the same idea.”

“That’s because we’re all good people here!” Typhaine said passionately. “We were all forced to do horrible things, but we’re still clinging to our humanity for as long as we can!”

Jordana laughed.

“Yeah, you can tell yourself that if you want. In the meantime, I have a question for Ryoji.”

“What is it?”

“Can you read the names that were on the little papers? All of them please.”

“Okay,” Ryoji said slowly. “We all know Florian’s name was on the little paper at the bookstore-”

“Which means I was probably the culprit’s intended target,” Florian cut in, flatly.

“That would explain the anonymous note you received, yes,” Jordana said thoughtfully. “But don’t interrupt Ryoji please.”

“It’s okay, I don’t mind,” Ryoji said. “So uh, the remaining names are mine, Typhaine’s, Rebecca’s, Jordana’s, Gwenn’s, Bob’s and Aphrodite’s.”

“Thank you Ryoji,” Jordana said with a smile. “That’s all I wanted to know.”

“What d’ya need ‘em for?” Bob asked.

Ryoji felt like a rock had been suddenly dropped in his stomach.

“We have to consider which name is missing from the list,” he said, sweating. “Because obviously, the culprit wouldn’t need to write down their own name in there.”

_I can’t believe it. The answer has been in my face the whole time, and I didn’t even see it. I’m such an idiot._

“But two names are missing from that list,” Rebecca objected. “Magalie and Ferdinand aren’t listed.”

“Eh, tha’s easy,” Bob argued. “One of them papers must have gott’n lost sumehow.”

“Or one name was purposefully avoided,” Gwenn said darkly. “Magalie and Ferdinand have been friends for a while, if either of them is the culprit, they would have wanted to avoid sacrificing their best friend in the process.”

Rebecca looked down at her hands.

“So is it… is it true?” She asked wearily. “The culprit is either Magalie or Ferdinand?”

“Oh no,” Typhaine said meekly. “It can’t be true!”

“Open your eyes,” Florian said coldly. “You’re forgetting an obvious detail.”

“What is it?”

“Ferdinand’s eyesight. He can’t read small letters, so I doubt he could have written these papers.”

“Indeed, I could not,” Ferdinand said calmly.

Ryoji stared at him with surprise. Why wasn’t Ferdinand reacting a little more strongly than that? Wasn’t Magalie his best friend? It was almost like he had been… expecting it.

_Ferdinand, what do you know? Why didn’t you tell us anything?_

“Damn,” Bob said, adjusting his beanie. “So it can only be Mag… holy shit. I didn’t see that one comin’.”

“Magalie, did you sacrifice yourself for us?” Rebecca asked in shock. “And did you sacrifice Aphrodite too?”

“Magalie, that can’t be true,” Typhaine said weakly. “You wouldn’t do something like that, would you?”

Magalie didn’t reply.

“Don’t give us the silence treatment,” Gwenn warned. “Either you’re the culprit or you’re not, but you have to say _something!”_

“God, I hate doin’ that,” Bob said, sounding disgusted. “Mag, yer a smart girl, right? I get that ya’d want to save us, but… ya wouldn’t do sumethin’ like this, wouldja?”

“I have a hard time believing it myself,” Jordana admitted. “This doesn’t sound like you at all.”

“Please say something,” Ferdinand said quietly.

“I don’t believe you’re the culprit,” Typhaine added, almost hiding her face behind her stand. “So please… just say something. I’ll defend you if you need me to!”

Magalie was still fiddling with her braid. She neither looked sad nor angry, but determined. With a nonchalant gesture, she brushed her hair from her eyes, and placed both hands on her hips.

“I see where you’re all coming from, and I understand why you’re suddenly accusing me. I would have probably done the same in this situation. But these papers are insufficient proof of my guilt.”

“I admit they’re a bit light,” Jordana said thoughtfully. “But you also don’t have an alibi for the time of death. In fact, none of us even knows where you went.”

“It would have been easy for you to commit the crime,” Florian asserted. “Unless you can somehow prove you couldn’t?”

“Maybe I could, maybe I couldn’t,” Magalie replied in an even tone. “You have yet to explain how I took the gun.”

Ryoji frowned.

“You could have asked Bob or Rebecca to give you one.”

“Could I now? Well, sure then. Hey Bob, hey Rebecca. I’m not hiding anymore, so you don’t have to keep secrets. Did you give me a gun?”

“Of course not,” Rebecca replied in frustration. “That’s what I’ve been saying this whole time!”

“I didn’t do it either,” Bob said uneasily. “But she must’ave gotten the gun _sum_ _e_ _how,_ yeah?”

“When would that be?” Magalie asked. “If you want to accuse me, you must be prepared to explain what I did, and how.”

“You could have sneaked up past one of the guards,” Gwenn suggested.

“That’s impossible. They were all told to stand by the entrance, and the door isn’t that wide. There’s no way they wouldn’t notice me.”

“But we know the culprit blew up a big hole in the armory’s floor, right?” Bob asked. “Ya could’ve easily used that!”

“Yes, but in order to break the floor, I would need a bomb and a detonator. But how did I obtain those? We’re back at our first problem.”

“No need to think too far,” Jordana said, amused. “Last night, you and I checked that no weapons were missing, right? You could have taken the gun and bomb there.”

“Is that so? But you were with me the whole time, Jordana. Wouldn’t you have noticed?”

“Maybe Jordie is coverin’ for ya,” Bob suggested.

“How rude,” Jordana complained, folding her arms. “Why would I do something like that?”

“If Magalie agreed to kill someone else than you, I don’t doubt you would have agreed to this plan,” Rebecca said icily. “That’s what you’ve been trying to do this whole time, isn’t it?”

“But my name was on the little papers, should I remind you?” Jordana asked. “If what you say is true, this is a _tragic_ tale of betrayal,” she added dramatically.

“There’s no need for any of that,” Ryoji said with a sigh.

“What do you mean?” Ferdinand asked.

“Magalie had an opportunity to take the gun and the bomb during the inventory. I know, because I’m the one who gave it to her.”

He could recall the event clearly: he had walked to the armory, tired and worried, asking if it was his turn to guard the place. Jordana had left Magalie for a short while, and showed him the planning on her monopad. The whole conversation couldn’t have lasted more than five minutes, but it was enough for Magalie to take the weapons and hide them in her clothes.

“Oh right,” Jordana said, putting a finger against her temple. “I had forgotten, but that makes sense. When you came to visit us, we had already made sure that no guns or bombs were missing, so I wouldn’t have noticed if Magalie took something then.”

Magalie didn’t say anything. She was staring at no one in particular, but tried to maintain her nonchalant façade. Ryoji couldn’t be fooled however: she felt scared and guilty, perhaps even more than Gwenn.

“Well, it’s gettin’ hard to doubt yer guilt, Mag,” Bob eventually said, fixing his belt. “Them papers’ one thing, but now you also coulda taken the gun-”

“But do you have any proof I took the gun?” Magalie cut in, slamming her desk to catch his attention. “Sure, there’s a _possibility_ I took one. There’s also a possibility I didn’t. In the end, do you have any evidence of my _culpabilité?”_

“Can’t you just admit it?” Gwenn asked in frustration. “It’s obvious you did it. I don’t get it, aren’t you doing this for our sake? Why are you resisting so much?”

Magalie didn’t reply.

“You blew up a wall for our sake too, but that didn’t help you confessing shit,” Jordana noted. “You should know better than any of us how hard it is to confess your guilt.”

“It seems we must help Magalie then,” Ferdinand concluded. “We have to prove she was in the bookstore, at the very least.”

“But how?” Gwenn asked. “Do we have any clues left?”

“Uh… there’s one thing,” Typhaine said prudently. “Ryoji, you remember what we found on Aphrodite’s body?”

Ryoji squinted, trying very hard to remember what she meant. Then it hit him.

“Ah, the hair! Yes, I remember now. Aphrodite had been gripping a tuft of hair, and a strand was still stuck to her hand when we discovered the body, though the tuft itself had been disposed in a nearby trashcan. The hair itself was black, so there’s only so many people it could belong to.”

“It wasn’t me!” Gwenn shouted in fear. “I never went to the bookstore, don’t you start accusing me now!”

“Calm down please,” Rebecca scolded.

“This is quite a curious situation,” Ferdinand commented. “How did the hair end up in Aphrodite’s hand? Do you suspect she fought the culprit?”

“well… it wouldn’t surprise me,” Gwenn admitted. “You just have to look at the shape of the bloodstain at the bookstore. It wasn’t just a single puddle: it seems Aphrodite moved after being shot. If she attacked Magalie, she could have grabbed a tuft of her hair before collapsing.”

“Once again, that’s nothing but conjecture,” Magalie countered. “You have no proof that-”

“Then undo your braid,” Ryoji ordered.

“Hm?”

“If Aphrodite managed to tear off a large chunk of your hair, it’s not like you could hide it forever, is it? It’s an easy way to prove whether or not we’re right to accuse you. Shouldn’t that be enough?”

Magalie nodded, very slowly. Then, equally slowly, she began to untie the little black ribbon which held her hair together, and undid each strand one by one. Her hair flowed into a beautiful cascade behind her back, and she turned around so that everyone could see. Indeed, the previously clear cut had a large rip in the middle.

“There can be no doubt now,” Jordana said with a very sad smile. “You shot Aphrodite. You’re the culprit.”

“Magalie, why?” Typhaine said, wiping her eyes. “I trusted you!”

“Did you really believe that was the only way?” Rebecca asked. “In a way, what you did was very brave, but it’s also so cruel… I don’t know what to think of it.”

“I suppose I owe you all an explanation,” Magalie said, turning around to face the group.

“Take your time,” Ferdinand suggested.

“Thank you.”

Magalie took a moment, probably to organize he thoughts, or simply to appreciate she silence. Hope was carelessly rubbing his fur against her leg, but she didn’t seem to notice.

“I guess I should be happy,” she eventually said. “After all, this is what I wanted, isn’t it?”

No one replied.

“When Monoblade told us what the new motive was, I immediately thought I should sacrifice myself. I’ve never really been afraid of dying, and compared to most of you, I don’t have anything to prove. I’m already a renown historian, and I just finished my thesis. Though it’s a little short, I thought my existence was ‘complete’, in a way. Not that it was how I wanted it to end, but it _could_ end there.”

She smiled.

“I thought about Ferdinand and his dream to become a knight. I thought about Ryoji, and how he helps prisoners and people in hospitals. I thought about Bob, and his community projects for homeless people. I thought about Gwenn, who still hasn’t been able to return to their garden at home, I thought about Jordana, who has the most beautiful voice in the entire world. I thought about Rebecca, who has yet to swim where no one has been able to, I thought about Typhaine who might be carrying a child. I thought about Florian, who has yet to beat his fears, and show the world what he’s capable of.”

“You thought about me?” Florian asked, sounding troubled. “But… you selected me.”

“One of you had to die,” Magalie cut in flatly. “For the sake of the group, it had to be one of you. I could never bring myself to kill Ferdinand, but I allowed myself no other cheats, and wrote each of your names on little papers. Some call it fate, some call it chance, Florian’s name is the one I ended up with. It made me sad, but I knew I was capable of it.”

“So you planned to steal a gun,” he said flatly.

“To be honest, I didn’t know how I was going to do it. It was pure luck when Ryoji gave me an opportunity, which is why I was able to set my plan in motion much faster than I had expected.”

“What about the bomb?” Bob asked. “Yer the one who took it, yeah?”

“I took a single bomb and a detonator, yes, but I didn’t use them.”

“What?” Rebecca said in shock. “Hold on, does that mean-”

“My plan was to create a diversion. I wanted there to be no doubt about this case: I wanted to be the sole suspect, so that none of you would be accused. In the end I gave up on that plan because I was afraid someone would see me placing the bomb and would try to stop me from shooting my target. That’s what I wanted to avoid at all cost.”

“But then, what did you do with the bomb?” Gwenn asked in puzzlement. “How did it end up blowing up the armory’s floor?”

“Let me finish. Remember that I gave Florian a note, asking him to meet me in the bookstore at noon. You all know what happened there: Aphrodite arrived before me, he attacked her and ran away.”

“So you chose to kill Aphrodite instead,” Rebecca said neutrally.

Magalie shook her head.

“I tried to help her,” she said, her voice finally breaking. “I wanted to save her, but… she saw the gun I was holding. When our eyes met, I panicked. She had never looked at me with so much anger, with so much disgust before. She jumped at me, and I pulled the trigger by accident. It was a sheer reflex, and it took me a while to realize what I had done. I had wanted to shoot her in the heart, so that she wouldn’t suffer, but I completely failed. I didn’t even feel it when she ripped out some of my hair. I ran away in shame, and hid on the 2nd floor, so I could hide my clothes, because some of the blood had stained them. And… that’s it.”

Ryoji had a hand covering his mouth in horror.

“You really shot her,” he said, as if he hadn’t been able to believe it until that point.

“But wait, that doesn’t make sense,” Jordana said worriedly. “What about the pharmacy? What about the bombing in the armory? That wasn’t you?”

“I hastily got rid of the bomb and detonator by throwing them inside the pharmacy,” Magalie admitted. “But I didn’t use them myself. I swear, I have no idea what happened after that. I don’t know who moved the body, why Aphrodite’s throat was sliced, if she was drugged or poisoned, I have no idea.”

“You could always be lying,” Florian said without much conviction.

“Why would she lie?” Rebecca asked brutally. “She just confessed to murder. What the hell could she _possibly_ want to hide after that?”

“It could be a diversion, so we don’t think she’s the real culprit,” he said weakly.

“That doesn’t sound very likely,” Ryoji admitted.

“But then, like… what the fuck?” Bob asked, summarizing everyone’s feelings.

“If Magalie is telling the truth, that means someone else went inside the bookstore after her,” Gwenn said. “It’s not that unlikely, when you think about it.”

“And there’s only so many people it could be,” Rebecca added. “Magalie, when you left the bookstore, what time was it?”

“I didn’t think to check the time,” Magalie said apologetically. “But it wasn’t long after the first explosion.”

“First explosion...” Ryoji repeated. “Rebecca, Typhaine, Jordana and I were all together around that time. We couldn’t have gone to the bookstore without someone noticing, so we can be ruled out as suspects.”

“Same goes for Florian,” Typhaine added. “Since he got injured by the first explosion, it couldn’t be him.”

“Assuming Magalie is telling the truth, that leaves us with Ferdinand, Gwenn and Bob as our only suspects,” Florian summarized, counting on his fingers.

“Whut?” Bob said. “I count as a suspect? But I was in the armory the whole time!”

“Sure, but can anyone prove it?”

“I doubt Bob is the culprit though,” Typhaine said timidly. “Since he got injured by the second explosion.”

“It is too soon to count our suspects,” Ferdinand said severely, folding his arms. “Let us try to understand what happened. What do we know?”

“Hm,” Ryoji said thoughtfully. “After Magalie left, someone moved Aphrodite to the little room at the back of the pharmacy. They used her own scarf to temporarily cut the bleeding, but when they got there, they tried to patch her up with a real bandage. Then at some point she consumed a sleeping pill, and her throat was slit.”

“That… sounds a lot like a mercy killing,” Florian said uneasily. “But it’s going to be tricky to figure out which killed her first, between the gun wound and the slit throat.”

“Let’s worry about that later,” Jordana decided. “We already have enough information to remove one suspect from our list.”

“Who?” Ryoji asked.

“Ferdinand of course. Aphrodite was probably too weak to move from her bed, and he can’t read the labels on the medicine boxes, so he wouldn’t have known what to give her.”

“That’s a good point,” Magalie admitted, sounding relieved.

Gwenn and Bob exchanged a glance.

“Come on, there’s no point in hiding anymore,” Gwenn said, smiling uneasily. “You can confess what you did now. We won’t think less of you.”

“But I’m telling ya, it wasn’t me!” Bob protested desperately.

“Can you prove you’re not the culprit?” Rebecca asked severely. “Because you seem the most suspicious to me right now.”

“Whut? Why?”

“Because if the culprit wanted to slit Aphrodite’s throat, they’d need a weapon, right? And all the weapons were in the armory! If you didn’t give anything to Gwenn, you could have stolen a knife and used it yourself.”

“Yeah right, and I blew up the floor underneath my feet for fun, is that it?” Bob asked angrily. “That coulda killed me!”

“These could be separate events,” Florian objected.

“Impossible,” Jordana countered. “Think about it: destroying the property was still forbidden at the time, unless it was part of a murder plot. If the explosion hadn’t been part of a murder plot somehow, then the perpetrator would have been executed.”

“It could have been part of a failed murder plot, targeting Bob,” Florian replied stubbornly.

“Really?” Typhaine asked. “You believe that’s possible?”

“I think that’s unlikely,” Jordana argued. “The armory is quite large, and the bomb only blew up a small portion of the floor. Bob nearly died because he was unlucky enough to stand in that specific spot, but the culprit had no way of knowing that, did they?”

“Okay but then… what was that 2nd bombing’s purpose?” Rebecca asked, exasperated.

“To steal a weapon from the armory without having to confront the guard,” Jordana explained. Most of the shelves in the armory collapsed when the bomb exploded, and many weapons fell in the water underneath. All the culprit had to do was bend and grab one.”

“If that’s true, then that means Gwenn is our culprit, right?” Magalie asked uncertainly. “After all, it’s obvious they went to the 2nd floor. Their clothes are still wet, just like mine.”

Gwenn paled and shook their arms quickly.

“I already told you, it wasn’t me! I was on the 2nd floor, that’s true, but I never went to the pharmacy, and I never slit Aphrodite’s throat!”

“I’d like to believe you, but… who else could it be?” Rebecca asked curiously. “Ferdinand is still fully dry, so he could definitely _not_ have done it. And Bob was incapacitated by your bomb, so it couldn’t be him either!”

“Look, I don’t understand what’s going on, but it’s still not me,” Gwenn said despairingly. “Please don’t vote for me, or we’ll all die! Guys, I swear, I’m being serious!”

“Please calm down” Ryoji said. “We haven’t finished our conversation, and it’s too soon to vote for you, I think. Actually… I have a question for everyone, if you all don’t mind?”

“What is it?” Magalie asked.

“So far, we agree that the 2nd bombing’s purpose was to steal a weapon, right? So whoever did it, they took the bomb that Magalie had left at the pharmacy, went to the supermarket in secret, and stuck the bomb to the ceiling, right?”

“That seems likely,” Jordana nodded. “They couldn’t go into the armory without being seen by Bob, after all.”

“Right, but there’s a problem with that, isn’t there?” Ryoji asked uncertainly. “Because the ceiling in the supermarket is really, _really_ high. Even I couldn’t touch if it I raised my arms. So how did the culprit place the bomb?”

“That’s easy,” Florian said. “They climbed onto the shelf.”

“That’s what I thought too, at first. But the shelves were _packed_ with supplies, and when I say packed, I mean _all_ of the available space was taken. You couldn’t climb the shelf from any side without dropping a box or two.”

“So?” Rebecca asked. “I don’t see the problem.”

“Well, the problem is that no box ever fell,” Ryoji said, tapping his index fingers against one another. “When I investigated the supermarket, they were all still neatly stacked on their shelves.”

“That’s not an issue,” Florian objected. “If one of the boxes fell, the culprit could have easily placed it back on the shelf afterwards.”

“But then the box would have been wet! And I would _definitely_ have noticed.”

A very frustrated silence welcomed his words.

“Out of all the mysteries to bump into, this is certainly the most annoying one,” Rebecca complained.

“It’s a very trivial matter,” Jordana agreed. “But it has to mean something.”

“And whatever the meaning, we must work to find a solution,” Ferdinand concluded.

“Let’s assume the culprit _didn’t_ climb onto the shelf,” Florian began. “How did the bomb end up on the ceiling? It’s not like they threw it in the air and pressed the detonator!”

“That would have been bold and risky,” Magalie agreed, shaking her head. “Maybe they found a way to climb onto the shelf without knocking anything down?”

“If they used some object as a step-stool, it could have worked,” Typhaine suggested.

“If anybody found something like that during their investigation, now would be a good time to speak up!” Jordana chanted.

“In a supermarket, there’d be plenty o’ possibilities,” Bob pondered. “But wasn’t the culprit in a hurry anyway? Why’d they bother doin’ sumethin’ as complicated as lookin’ for a step-stool when they could easily mess up the shelf?”

“True, it makes no sense,” Florian agreed. “Yet if we’re to believe Ryoji’s word, there has to be an explanation.”

“Wait,” Ryoji said. “I think I got it!”

“You found the solution?” Magalie asked. “Well hurry up and tell us!”

“It occurred to me that during my investigation, I went from the armory to the supermarket by jumping onto the shelf, then into the water. What if the culprit did the exact same thing?”

“But the hole in the armory only existed after they blew up the ceiling,” Rebecca countered.

“That’s true, but there are other holes in the floor. There’s one that starts near the end of the elevator room, and leads right to the supermarket’s entrance! If the culprit jumped down the hole, they could have used the top of the shelves as an improvised catwalk, and crossed the entire supermarket without once dipping a foot in the water! And from there, it would have been easy to place the bomb against the ceiling-”

“Which means we have to reconsider one of our suspects,” Florian cut in suddenly.

“Eh?” Ryoji asked, thrown off by the sudden interruption. “Who?”

“Ferdinand. We discarded him as the culprit earlier on account of his legs being dry, but that no longer counts as an alibi. In fact, if anything, it makes him even more suspicious.”

“Ferdie?” Typhaine repeated, with a chuckle. “You gotta be nuts. He’d never do something like that!”

“Yeah, I’m just not seeing it,” Rebecca agreed, rubbing her elbow thoughtfully. “That kind of sneaky plan doesn’t sound like him at all.”

“But wouldn’t the brave knight do anything to protect Magalie?” Florian objected, sounding a little pained.

“That’s ridiculous!” Magalie argued. “He had no way of knowing I had shot Aphrodite.”

“Unless Aphrodite told him herself,” Florian replied quietly.

Magalie was silenced. With her messy hair and wet clothes, she looked a little like a crazy woman. She hugged herself slowly, shaking her head repeatedly, as if she were struggling with a nightmare.

“I don’t want to believe it,” Jordana said loudly. “Ferdinand… no, it can’t be him. It can’t be you!” She added, glaring at Ferdinand almost angrily. “Because how would you have given Aphrodite the sleeping pill? You can’t read!”

“But Aphrodite would have told him where to find it,” Florian commented coldly. “She investigated the pharmacy on the first day, didn’t she?”

“It is true,” Ferdinand agreed. “Aphrodite could have told me. Perhaps she did. I think it is very likely, myself.”

Ryoji felt a cold sweat running down his back. Bending his back, he placed both hands on his stand, breathing with a little difficulty.

“Don’t make jokes Ferdie,” Typhaine pleaded. “Especially not now. It’s really not funny.”

“Jokes?” Ferdinand repeated innocently. “But there is a strong possibility I am the true culprit. Do you not want to at least consider it?”

“No,” Jordana said firmly. “Stop this farce right away. You would _never_ do something so stupid! You couldn’t possibly have!”

“For me,” Magalie whispered. “No… no, I would never forgive myself. It has to be a bad dream.”

“Ferdinand, listen to me!”

Jordana was practically shouting.

“You never did this! You never stole the bomb, and you never went to the supermarket, and you never took a dagger, and you never killed Aphrodite, got it? This whole theory is stupid anyway. Come back to your senses already! Argue! Refute it! _What are you waiting for?”_ She yelled in a shrilly voice.

Ferdinand shook his head.

“What is there to refute?”

“Ferd,” Magalie said weakly. “This has to be a bad dream. You would have never...”

“He would, and you know it,” Florian said mercilessly. “Stop whining and accept the truth.”

“I won’t accept it,” Jordana threatened. “So far, I have yet to hear anything but conjecture! Gwenn could still easily be the culprit!”

“You hate me that much?” Gwenn asked sadly. “I already said it wasn’t me.”

“Shut up,” Jordana snapped. “Your words are meaningless. I’ll only accept proof!”

“Fine,” Ferdinand said. “Then I have a question for you all. If Gwenn is the culprit, is there not something missing from the crime scene?”

His words were welcomed with a puzzled silence. It was Ryoji who eventually figured it out.

“Water,” he said. “The pharmacy and back-room were completely dry, but we know for a fact Gwenn spent a while on the 2nd floor.”

“There you go,” Ferdinand said with a little smile. “The floor was dry, so Gwenn cannot be the culprit. Magalie either. Considering Bob’s situation, it would be hard to suspect him, so I am the only remaining suspect, am I not?”

“Jordana, are you done now?” Florian asked in a bored tone. “He’s basically confessing.”

“No,” Jordana said stubbornly. “There’s still one mystery that no one has managed to explain until that point. I won’t accept this until it’s been solved!”

“All right,” Ferdinand said amiably. “Challenge accepted.”

“How are you so calm?” Rebecca asked, horrified. “Don’t you realize what’s going to happen to you?”

“That matters not,” Ferdinand replied. “Jordana, I assume you are referring to the locked room mystery?”

“Precisely,” Jordana said. “When Ryoji and Rebecca found the body, the door to the back-room was locked, right? That’s why they had to bust the door down.”

“So?” Bob asked. “Ferd coulda had the key on him the whole time.”

“No, he couldn’t! Typhaine shouted. “Because Ryoji found the key in the dresser, inside the back-room!”

“Exactly,” Jordana said triumphantly. “The culprit managed to leave the room _without_ unlocking the door, and left the only key behind! And until we don’t solve that little mystery, we can’t-”

“But that’s easy,” Ryoji countered. “Ferdinand could have simply hid the key in the dresser when the investigation began. Me and Rebecca were so shocked to discover Aphrodite’s body, we wouldn’t have realized anything.”

Jordana opened her mouth to say something, but didn’t seem to find the right words. She shot Ryoji a heinous glare, but he avoided her gaze. Ferdinand patted him on the shoulder.

“There you go Ryoji,” Ferdinand said affectionately. “You solved the last mystery. I knew you could do it, but I am still proud of your success.”

It was perhaps only at this specific moment that Ryoji finally understood what was going to happen. Ferdinand was already a dead man walking. He had slit Aphrodite’s throat, and…

“Oh my god,” Ryoji whispered. “When Rebecca and I left the pharmacy earlier today to grab a chair, so we could bust the door down… that’s when you killed her, isn’t it? You must have been hiding the dagger on your clothes. You probably still had the key on you at the time, so all you had to do was unlock the door, kill Aphrodite, then leave and lock the door again. We didn’t suspect a thing.”

“So if we hadn’t done that,” Rebecca began, eyes wide.

“You could have saved my life, and condemned Magalie’s instead,” Ferdinand said seriously. “Would this have been a better choice in your opinion?”

Magalie was openly sobbing, and Ryoji felt his eyes watering. This was precisely the end he had foreseen – but that didn’t mean he felt prepared to witness Ferdinand’s death.

“Just to make sure, there’s no way Aphrodite had already died when you slit her throat?” Florian asked in a dull tone.

“No, because I could still hear her breathing,” Ferdinand said calmly. “This is the truth: I swear it on my knight’s honor. I am the culprit you have all been looking for.”

Jordana shook her head.

“I’m still not ready to accept it,” she said miserably. “Not you Ferdie. Why? Why did it have to be you?”

“Fine. Then Ryoji please… will you review the case from the beginning? So we can make sure that no mystery is left unchecked. And once everyone is finally satisfied, we can begin the vote.”

Ryoji wiped his eyes with his sleeve, and nodded.


	45. Class Trial 4 - Autumn Edition

As Ryoji was getting prepared to summarize the case, his mind wandered to his memories of the 2nd trial. He remembered it quite well. For a while, everybody had been talking, trying to uncover the mysteries together. But when Suzie had begun to feel threatened, she had become very aggressive, shouting arguments at Lisa, who kept the pace without flinching. The conversation had become a battle between the two, and at the end, Lisa had been so drained that she had passed out before she could hear the verdict. Today it was Ryoji’s turn to summarize the case, and he felt very much like passing out too.

“This case began yesterday,” he began in an unsteady voice. “Magalie and Jordana were doing an inventory of all the weapons and dangerous objects contained in the armory, to make sure none had been stolen. But I came and briefly distracted Jordana, allowing Magalie to steal two weapons: a gun with a silencer, and a bomb with its detonator.”

“Did you even know the gun had a silencer?” Florian asked Magalie.

She shook her head.

“I know nothing about modern guns. I just picked one that seemed the right size.”

“I see. Go on, Ryoji.”

“Once the inventory was done, Magalie grabbed some papers and a pen, and wrote each of our names on little papers,” Ryoji continued. “Ikea is huge, so I don’t doubt she easily found a place where she could be alone. She shuffled them inside a box, then picked one at random. Her objective was to choose one of us to sacrifice, so that the rest of the group would survive.”

“And Florian was picked,” Ferdinand completed.

“And thus her plan was set in motion. She wrote another note which she slipped on Florian’s clothes, asking him to meet her at the bookstore on the next day, at noon. Uh… wait Magalie, what would you have done if he hadn’t come?”

“Breathed a sigh of relief, I suppose,” Magalie said, wearily. “And tried again later, maybe with someone else.”

“I… I see. Anyway, once that was done, Magalie went to bed. But the story doesn’t end there, as we already know. Late at night, it was Gwenn’s turn to act. They discreetly left Ikea and went to the armory. There they talked to Typhaine, who was currently guarding the place, and asked that she give them three bombs and a detonator, promising that they had good intentions. They also made her swear not to betray her. I don’t know if Gwenn set the bombs right away or hid them somewhere for the night, but it doesn’t change much. The three bombs were stuck together on the far eastern wall on the 2nd floor, and covered by a piece of cloth so that we wouldn’t see them.”

“I used one of your sweaters,” Gwenn admitted morosely.

“You… what?” Ryoji repeated, completely thrown off by such an odd detail.

“I’m sorry, it’s a useless detail. Please move on.”

“Uh… sure,” Ryoji replied, trying to focus back on his narrative. “Where was I…? Oh, the bombs. They were stuck to the wall, switched on, and the next morning, Gwenn set their trap in Ikea. Once everyone left the hall, Gwenn set the detonator on the floor, and squished it with a stool – whoever would remove it would accidentally trigger the sensor, and detonate the bombs.”

Ryoji took a moment to breathe.

“Long story short, I fell for that trap. But let’s rewind a bit.”

“Rewind to the moment I entered the bookstore?” Florian asked.

“Precisely. You went to the bookstore a little earlier than what the note suggested, and you brought a crowbar for self-defense. A crowbar which came from our previous location, and which no one else knew about, except for Gwenn. You already explained your reasons for doing that, so I won’t come back to it.”

“But instead of Magalie, it was Aphrodite who came,” Typhaine said sadly. “And when Florian saw her, he believed she wanted to kill him, so he attacked her.”

“Indeed,” Ryoji said. “He hit her on the head with a crowbar, and ran away. He went to the 2nd floor so he could hide his weapon, but at the exact same time, I fell for Gwenn’s trap and removed the stool, which triggered the first explosion. Florian succeeded in hiding the evidence, but he was injured by the blast – and when we heard the explosion, Jordana, Typhaine, Rebecca and I ran down the stairs to check what happened. I assume that Magalie entered the bookstore at approximately the same time.”

“And when she entered the bookstore, she found Aphrodite alone and injured,” Ferdinand said, finally letting out a bit of his anger. “She sought to help her, but was still holding a gun in her right hand – naturally, Aphrodite tried to defend herself. She attacked Magalie and ripped out a large chunk of her hair. Meanwhile, Magalie accidentally pulled the trigger and shot her in the chest.”

“And Magalie ran away too,” Ryoji concluded. “If we had been just a little faster, we might have seen her: but when we walked back up the stairway, we didn’t see anyone on the third floor. In fact, we put Florian’s body in the elevator just like Monoblade requested, and went back down to investigate. I suppose that at that point Ferdinand found Aphrodite’s body, but...”

“But when I called for help, no one was around,” Ferdinand completed. “I yelled, and yelled again, but nobody heard me.”

“So you tried to save Aphrodite’s life yourself,” Jordana said grimly. “You wrapped her wound with her scarf and moved her to the pharmacy. Lying her down on the bed, you applied a bandage around her wound, and when you asked her who had done this to her, she told you that Magalie had betrayed us, didn’t she?”

“She did,” Ferdinand agreed. “She used the word _betrayal_ , and she also said it was pointless trying to save her. She told me she was hurt, and would like a sleeping pill – she also kindly told me where they I could find them. I fulfilled her request, of course: who am I to ignore a call from a damsel in distress? Sadly Aphrodite was too weak to chew the pill herself, and I had no water available, so I had to chew the pill for her.”

This strange detail made the hair on Ryoji’s neck rise uncomfortably. He shivered, and moved on.

“What happened next?”

“Aphrodite fell asleep,” Ferdinand explained. “And I knew I had to save Magalie’s life.”

“You could have simply strangled her right here,” Florian commented. “That would have been much easier than blowing up the armory. So why didn’t you?”

“Who do you take me for?” Ferdinand asked angrily. “Aphrodite deserved better than that. She was a fierce warrior! She deserved to die by the blade, and thus I needed one.”

“So you left the back-room, locked it behind yourself, and jumped down a hole that led you to the supermarket,” Rebecca summarized. “But why go through all that trouble, when you could simply ask Bob to cooperate?”

“This task I knew I had to do alone,” Ferdinand explained. “Besides, I needed to act fast. However, I truly cannot apologize enough to you, Bob. My reckless actions put you in grave peril, which is scandalizingly unchivalrous of me.”

“’s fine,” Bob mumbled. “Dun’t waste yer time apologizin’ now when yer about to die, jeez,” he added with a sniffle.

“Then what?” Rebecca asked. “What did you do after that, Ferd? Because when we heard the explosion, we rushed to the supermarket to see what was going on, but we didn’t see you there.”

“I assume you escaped through the armory?” Ryoji asked.

“Indeed. I climbed up the fracture I had created, grabbed a dagger which I hid on my personage, and I ran back to the pharmacy. When I met you and Rebecca there, I sent you off to grab a chair, swiftly cut Aphrodite’s neck, and left the room again.”

“And the final step was to hide the key back into the room when the investigation began,” Ryoji concluded. “That’s everything that happened, and there can be no doubt that you’re the culprit.”

He breathed out, feeling a little unsteady. Bob left his stand, and ran to hug his boyfriend, burying his head in his chest.

“I don’t understand,” Gwenn said. “You never intended to win this game, did you?” They asked, staring at Ferdinand. “So why not confess from the start? Why make us go through all this trouble? Through all the pain, and all the accusations… I don’t understand.”

“There are multiple reasons,” Ferdinand replied casually. “The first one is very simple, but remember that I am about to _die._ My last hours on this earth may have been a horrendous trial, but if I get to spend at least a short moment with my friends, is it not worth it in the end?”

Gwenn didn’t reply right away, but they looked like they had been slapped. They visibly recoiled, looking down to avoid Ferdinand’s gaze.

“I’m sorry,” they wailed. “I’m really sorry.”

“The second reason is a purely practical one,” Ferdinand continued, apparently unbothered. “Today we learned a large number of ugly, disturbing truths. We might never have if I had confessed right away. Without a trial, would we have made the effort to solve all the mysteries? Naturally, this hardly matters to me – but it does for the rest of you. In the future, you will want to know what Magalie and Gwenn are capable of in a time of crisis, or how badly Florian needs help at the moment. But most importantly...”

He smiled.

“You will realize that despite the circumstances, Jordana did not even _try_ anything wicked.”

“Ferd,” Jordana breathed out, shocked and confused. “Why would you-”

“Which brings us to my third reason. It concerns Aphrodite, and her memory. Out of respect for the dead, I thought it crucial that you all know what happened to her, how she was betrayed not once, but thrice. I wanted you not to _hear_ her story, but _figure it out_ for yourselves, so that you may begin to understand how she felt when Florian attacked her, or when Magalie shot her. I want you to try and picture it: the fear, the anger, the pain, the humiliation, and the sadness that she went through. She was a brilliant individual – none of us ever deserved the efforts that she made for our sake.”

Magalie was crying again, hiding behind her hands. Ryoji was crying too, and Bob only hugged him tighter. He could feel Ferdinand’s radiating presence, like a dying star, projecting its last rays of light on a faraway planet.

“She called my name a few times, as I was carrying her,” Ferdinand added mercilessly. “She never seemed so weak, so vulnerable to me before. I think the feeling of abandon she was going through completely crushed her. She probably never loved me more than in this very instant.”

“Stop,” Magalie begged. “Stop it, please...”

“I need you all to remember this day,” Ferdinand added severely. “And what it truly means, when someone dies. I know with each days we feel more numb, and the concept of death seems more and more ordinary to us. We lost Sébastien and Roberta, Julie and Bertrand and Suzie, Lucien and Lisa, Aphrodite, and today you will also lose me. Remember their… no, remember our names.”

“We will,” Typhaine promised.

She seemed fired up by Ferdinand’s speech, and was staring at him with passionate abandon.

“How could I ever forget someone like you?” Florian asked quietly. “I’ll do my best.”

“Thank you,” Rebecca said, wiping her eyes angrily. “I needed this. Thank you Ferdinand.”

“You’re such a great man,” Ryoji said sadly. “Why didn’t I realize it sooner?”

“I ain’t a man o’ many words, but I’ll defo miss ya Ferdie,” Bob added.

Magalie and Gwenn remained silent. Either they didn’t want to say anything, they didn’t dare say anything, or they couldn’t. As for Jordana, she still looked furious.

“I hate this,” she admitted, her arms shaking in fury. “I want to say something wise and profound, but I just can’t. I fucking hate this situation, and I hate you too Ferdie. Why? Why did you have to throw away your life like this? I never wanted you to die!”

“Some things are just beyond your control,” Ferdinand replied slowly. “You just have to accept it.”

“Fuck you!” She replied, punching the wood in anger. “Stop trying to change me! Stop trying to do good and think about yourself for a change! You had so much to live through, so much to see, so much to learn, so why…?”

“I love you,” Ferdinand replied with a smile.

Jordana began to tear up.

“Why?” She repeated. “Why me? Why now?”

“I know not. But I admit, you made my sacrifice tough.”

“Oh my god!” Jordana shouted. “Do you not know any mercy?”

“I do not have time for mercy,” Ferdinand laughed. “At any point, Monoblade might decide to execute me. There are so many things I want to say in so little time. I love you Jordana. You are a smart and talented young woman, destined for greatness. If you escape this place… no, _when_ you do, will you show the world your true self at last? I sincerely hope you can. Take all the time that you need.”

Jordana wiped her eyes, but couldn’t stop the tears flowing down her cheeks.

“Fine,” she said with determination. “If that’s what you want, I’ll try.”

“That is all I wanted to hear,” Ferdinand replied with a bright smile.

He turned around.

“Typhaine,” he called out.

“Yes?”

“You are more than the burden you carry. Your past mistakes do not define you. You have a lot to contribute to this group; you simply have to give yourself the chance to actually let yourself live.”

“Oh,” she said, sniffling. “Aye, sir,” she added with a little smile.

“Gwenn,” Ferdinand continued.

“Yes?”

“You have a lot of fear inside you, but are actually much more capable than you think. Trust yourself, but mostly trust others, and do not be afraid to ask them for help when you need it.”

“Trust? You’re telling me about trust at a moment like this?”

“I dare,” Ferdinand replied with a laugh. “If this is folly, then so be it. Perhaps folly is the very thing you need at the moment.”

“I’ll… try to remember it.”

“Bob,” Ferdinand moved on.

“Yeah?”

“I like you a lot. I am deeply sorry I never told you that.”

“Aw man,” Bob said, wiping his eyes again. “I think yer cool too, y’know?”

“Will you take care of everyone for me?”

“Of course! Ya can count on me!”

Bob gave him a military salute, and Ferdinand replied with a salute of his own. He turned toward Florian.

“I don’t want to hear what you have to say,” Florian warned, and he sounded really worried for some reason.

“Then I have nothing to say to you,” Ferdinand replied peacefully. “Rebecca?”

“Yes, Ferd?”

“You nearly did something horrendous to Ryoji. Now I admittedly do not know much about redemption, but I think you are doing quite good. It takes a lot of courage to help those you previously hurt: you have a rare talent. In her last words, Aphrodite told me that she forgave you.”

“She… she did?” Rebecca repeated in shock.

“Yes, she did. Impressive, no?”

Ferdinand turned to Ryoji.

“Ryoji, I know I asked a lot from you today.”

Ryoji didn’t reply.

“May I ask you one last thing?”

“What is it?”

“May you hug me one last time? It would ease my departure if you did.”

Ryoji extended both arms, and Ferdinand cuddled him affectionately. Neither of them cried. They were simply breathing very slowly, in perfect unison, and soon everyone in the courtroom began to adopt the same rhythm. Perhaps it took a whole minute, Ryoji wasn’t sure. He didn’t want to let go. In all of his life, he had always _known_ when was the perfect time to let go, but on that specific day, he wasn’t sure. Perhaps there was no good moment.

“Are you done?” Monoblade asked curiously. “May I begin the punishment now?”

“You may,” Ferdinand said, detaching himself from Ryoji with regret.

“Good. Now, I _could_ execute you as the ultimate wanderer, but that would be kinda lame, I think. Also it would resemble Suzie’s execution a little too much, and the audience would get bored. So I might as well execute you as the ultimate knight, ey? That title suits you better anyway.”

Ferdinand bowed very low.

“I could not ask for a better parting gift.”

“Thanking your executioner now? That’s an odd one. Okay, let’s get started! Magalie, you technically count as an accomplice, so you’ll have to participate too.”

“You want to kill me?” She asked in an empty voice.

“I’m not allowed to kill you, unless you break a rule. You’d better follow my orders carefully.”

“Sure.”

“Uh...” Ryoji began. “May I-”

“No,” Bob said firmly. “If a third person’s allowed t’go out there, then it’s gonna be _me._ No questions asked.”

“Sure!” Monoblade said cheerfully. “The more the merrier!”

Three heavy metal claws fell on Ferdinand, Magalie and Bob’s necks. They were gone from the room before the others could blink.


	46. Brave Execution

For once, the execution didn’t take place in a street, but in a field. Both eyes glued to the screen, Ryoji could only guess that Ferdinand had been dropped near the outskirts of the city, perhaps close to an abandoned village. The grass was yellow and dry, the sky brown and dusty, all the trees had died long ago. The sea was nowhere in sight. Ferdinand was seated on a huge white horse, he had been given a tourney spear, a thick and blue wooden shield, a heavy sword and a knight’s helmet. He looked rather uncomfortable, probably because the helmet restricted his already poor vision. Bob was standing near the horse, but Magalie was nowhere in sight.

“What do you think they expect me to do?” Ferdinand was asking.

“Dunno. Guess we gotta find Mag?”

“I would love to, my friend. But I cannot see anything,” he added with a humorless laugh.

“Lemme be yer eyes then.”

Bob firmly grabbed the horse’s collar, staring at the destrier’s eyes defiantly. The horse didn’t seem particularly angry about it – he mostly looked curious. Bob led him through the field, and they walked slowly, taking the time to gaze at the scenery. A little rabbit fled upon their arrival, a bird flew away from the dead tree it had been perched onto.

“What even happened here?” Ferdinand questioned out loud. “What could have destroyed these fields so badly?”

“Dunno, dun’t care. I’m more worried about the executin’ stuff. It ain’t s’posed t’take that long, is it? Why’s nuthin’ happ’nin’?”

“Perhaps making us wait is intentional?” Ferdinand suggested. “Suzie’s execution was made like this too. I still _am_ the ultimate wanderer.”

Bob frowned, but didn’t reply anything. They approached a steep slope, the horse kept a steady rhythm. Ferdinand was very clearly unaccustomed to horse-riding, and nearly fell in the mud on countess occasions.

“Oh shit,” Bob said. “I think I’m beginnin’ to see it.”

“What do you see?”

“A large piece o’ wood, like a pier. There’s folks on horses around it. They’re wearin’ thick black armors, big heavy stuff.”

“Actual people?” Ferdinand repeated in surprise. “Are you certain?”

“Can’t see their faces,” Bob admitted. “But yer right, tha’s strange.”

“And what about the wooden stake? What do you think it is for?”

“We’re still too far and I those dudes are blockin’ my sight, but I think… shit, no, they wouldn’t… oh shit, I think they… shit!”

“What is it?”

“It’s Mag,” Bob said in anguish. “They’ve tied her to the stake, and they’re about to set it on fire!”

“What?” Ferdinand roared. “The scoundrels! I must help her at once!”

“Dun’t wait for me, run, run, go help her!”

“But how?” Ferdinand asked stupidly. “I’ve never ridden a horse in my life. How do you make them gallop?”

“Ya dun’t know? Oh fuck, uh...”

Unsure what to do, Bob slapped the horse’s butt as hard as he could. He got kicked by the animal’s back hoove and fell into the mud. When he got back up, his clothes were stained and his beanie had been lost somewhere. Ferdinand’s horse was galloping forward, the young man desperately trying not to fall from his saddle. Three of the knights that were guarding the stake jumped on their own horses and raised their shields in perfect unison. The fourth one threw a torch at the stake’s base where a heap of straws and small branches had been gathered, setting it on fire immediately.

Not knowing what to do, Bob began to run. The slope was too steep, he soon lost control of his own legs, stumbled and fell. Brambles and nettle bushes grew everywhere in these parts, cruelly tearing his clothes and hurting his exposed skin. He got back up hastily, ignoring the blood trickling from his wounds, and resumed running. He could faintly see Ferdinand in the distance, plowing into his opponents. The spear he was holding burst into little pieces when it hit the central shield, he was pushed backwards so violently that he fell on his back, losing his helmet.

Bob forced himself to look away. The flames were growing, and despite her struggles, Magalie seemed unable to free herself from her restraints. Oddly enough, the knights didn’t seem to care about Bob’s efforts. He ran in a circle around them, ignoring Ferdinand as he struggled to get up and pull out the huge sword that he had been given.

“Ferdinand!” Magalie was yelling. “Run away, you can’t beat them! Take the horse and flee! Don’t be an idiot!”

Bob had no idea how much pain she must be feeling. The brazier was already quite large, he couldn’t walk within two meters of it without feeling the heat with painful acuity. He needed to find something to break her ropes before she died.

“Hey, you!” He yelled at the knight who had stayed behind. “Gimme yer weapon!”

To his astonishment, the knight obliged. He took his sword out of its scabbard, grabbed it by the blade and extended it so that Bob could seize the handle. Bob wrapped both of his hands around it, shocked by the weapon’s weight. The tip of the blade fell to the ground, and it took all of his strength to lift it again.

“Ugh,” he complained, sweat pouring down his forehead. “I should quit smokin’.”

“Bob!” Magalie shouted in relief. “Hurry up and save me so we can help Ferdinand!”

“I’m really tryin’, I swear,” he complained.

In fact, it was pure luck that saved them both that day. A sudden gust of wind blew from Bob’s back, pushing the flames away from him. He knew that he only had one chance: he took a step forward and hit the spike blindly. The heat was numbing his senses. The sword bounced clumsily against Magalie’s leg, severing the rope and wounding her leg. She screamed in pain, Bob dropped the sword, took several steps backward and fell on his butt, coughing. The dark smoke was clouding his vision.

His eyes were watering, but no matter how many times he rubbed them, he couldn’t see anything. The heat was so intense, he felt like his skin was going to fall off. He heard Magalie jumping down from the stake, rolling in the grass to extinguish the flames that had started to consume her clothes. She was the one who dragged him by the shoulders, forcing him to get away from the fire.

“Bob!” She shouted (worriedly?). “Bob, stay with me!”

“It hurts,” Bob whined.

“I know it hurts, but we don’t have any time to waste! Look up!”

Bob wiped his eyes again, and focused them on the field. The three knights were leaving the scene, galloping up a little hill. One of them was carrying a rope tied around Ferdinand’s leg, who was dragged up the hill like a dead weight. He barely seemed conscious. Even from the distance, Bob could see that his face was covered in blood.

“We have to save him!” Magalie yelled aggressively. “Come on, let’s steal this guy’s horse!”

“But I dunno nuthin’ about horseridin’,” Bob objected.

“I doesn’t matter, I do!”

She grabbed him by the wrist, forced him to get up and ran toward the huge black horse. Placing her foot on the stirrup, she sat herself on the saddle swiftly. Bob struggled to climb onto the destrier’s back, she had to help him once again, lifting him up with the sheer strength of her arms. Then, furiously spurring the animal, she chased after the black knights, who had disappeared from view.

“Ya think we’ll be there on time?” Bob asked worriedly.

“Only one way to find out!”

The horse was fast, but seemed absurdly slow and heavy to Bob, like some kind of clumsy panda, lazy and fat. Bob was clinging to Magalie’s arms tightly, afraid to fall off. She was steady as a brick, hands tightly clenched around the horse’s mane. Her eyes were fixed on their destination, which never seemed to ever grow closer. The wind had turned, and was now working against them. Bob suddenly remembered that he had injured himself on the thorns earlier, and nearly fainted from the thought of his blood pouring out of the many cuts on his arms and legs.

But suddenly, it was all over. The horse reached the top of the hill, and Bob could finally see what it had been concealing: a large tree, with a body hanging from a high branch. Ferdinand’s neck seemed to have snapped as soon as the rope had locked itself around it – he had probably not suffered. His ginger hair was falling in messy waves around his face, his shirt had been torn open, he seemed to have soiled himself (though Bob didn’t know when, and didn’t wish to know). The three knights had removed their helmets, and stared at Magalie and Bob with completely neutral expressions.

“Yer… actual real people,” Bob said in shock. “Yer normal people, and ya killed him. Why? He hadn’t done nothin’ to ya! Didja even know him? Why wouldja _do_ that?”

“When a higher power gives you an order, the wisest choice is to bow low and fulfill the request,” the woman in the middle replied. “We’re only following the rules.”

“I dun’t get it,” Bob said. “I dun’t get it. I dun’t.”

And he repeated it, over and over, while the three knights stared at him in silence. And when he finally stopped talking, he could finally hear the sound of Magalie’s crying, almost covered by the distant howling of the wind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here ends chapter 4. It's not like all the previous ones, it really feels like I'm killing characters that matter here. I originally planned to make Aphrodite one of the survivors, and I thought of allowing Ferdinand into the group too. Now there's only eight people left... we're getting close to the end. Your thoughts on part 4? Your expectations/theories for part 5? If you have anything to say, don't hesitate to leave a comment.
> 
> Ferdinand's death portrait: https://imgur.com/a/CgvAwcx


	47. Hunger and Pain

Ryoji woke up in a bed, and just from the smell, he knew that he was back at the research facility. The hospital rooms and hallways always smelled of mint and fresh paint, perhaps with a hint of iron which always seemed a little out of place. He rubbed his eyes and gazed at the white ceiling, unsure what to do. The memories from the previous trial were still somewhere in his mind, but he tried to push them away. Later perhaps, he could think about Aphrodite and Ferdinand’s death, but he wasn’t strong enough yet.

After an hour of doing nothing, Ryoji finally left his bed. He was wearing the clothes from the day before: they were completely drenched in sweat. He took them off, feeling a little disgusted. Only when he found himself naked did he wonder if he was alone in the room. Anxiously gazing at the second bed, he found it empty. Where was Bob? The memories from the execution were coming back to him slowly. Ryoji recalled the thorn bushes which had cruelly wounded his boyfriend, and guessed that he must still be at the clinic.

Ryoji chose to wear some very plain clothes: a white t-shirt, jean shorts, and a little gray cap. He stared at the door for a full minute before finally daring to wrap his hand around the handle. The hallway was cold and empty. The elevator room was empty as well, so was the second hallway and so was the parking lot. The garden looked messy and sinister in the dim morning light, which made the leaves look blue. It was even bigger than before, noisy with the buzzing of various insects. Moss was covering the asphalt and even some of the rusty car wrecks. Hope was in the garden, chasing a fly. In more ways than once, the place had changed a lot since their arrival. Ryoji gazed with melancholy at the frescoes Bertrand had painted on the facility’s walls, and at the foundations of the shack Lucien had wanted to build. Even though they were dead, they lived through the changes they had brought to their environment.

_And if I died, what would be left of me? Would people remember me? Would they remember my face, the sound of my voice, how it feels to hug me?_

In the restaurant, he found Rebecca and Bob, sitting at the table, eating an omelet. They were chatting quietly.

“What I wonder’s if we can use tha’ big machine from th’robot room up there. If we use it maybe we can break stuff big time.”

“But isn’t it stuck up there? I still think we’d have more luck using mallets from the sports store, or tools from the workshop. It’ll be slow, but maybe we could break a window somewhere, use a rope and get down?”

“Sounds achievable,” Bob mumbled.

“Uh...” Ryoji began, unsure how to butt into the conversation.

“Ah, Ryo!” Bob shouted, getting up from his seat so suddenly the chair fell behind him.

He was perfectly clean and fresh, his beard had been shaved and his hair had been trimmed. His beanie must have been lost during the execution, because it was the first time Ryoji saw him not wearing it. There were bandages around his arms and legs, and he was wearing a variant of the prison uniform, with shorter sleeves to expose his arms. As always, the uniform clung to the owner’s body very tightly, revealing each and all of the person’s curves: Bob’s thin and rough shoulders, his flat chest, slight belly and firm thighs, it was more than Ryoji asked for and just enough to make him uncomfortable. The kidnappers probably did it on purpose, and it was really messed up of them.

“Ya okay dude? I wanted to go to yer room t’bring ya breakfast but I got caught up in things and I forgot.”

“You… you did?” Ryoji stuttered in astonishment. “That’s very sweet of you. I guess I’ll have my breakfast here, that’s fine… what were you discussing?”

“Breaking things,” Rebecca said enthusiastically. “Remember that Monoblade deleted the rule about breaking stuff during the last trial? We’re thinking about how we can use that to escape.”

Ryoji looked at the ceiling, in search of the security cameras.

“Isn’t this conversation recorded?”

“It is,” Bob confirmed. “We dun’t care. Monoblade came here earlier, said we could never escape, and we said ‘challenge accepted’. So we’re lookin’ for the most efficient way of breakin’ down the walls, or maybe the fence, we dunno.”

“If we had the bombs it’d be easy, but we don’t,” Rebecca said sadly. “And most of the walls are rather solid.”

Ryoji scratched his beard thoughtfully.

“At this point, wouldn’t it be easier to just dig a hole under the fence? There are parts where the asphalt is cracked, and there’s nothing but mud underneath.”

“Oh, yer right! If we can find shovels, tha’s prolly the easiest way out. Heck yeah, thanks Ryo!”

“Thanks a lot, Ryoji,” Rebecca added, beaming. “Digging is less fun than breaking, but I’m glad I’ll have something to keep me busy!”

“Yeah, anythin’ to keep us from thinkin’ about yesterday,” Bob added glumly.

Ryoji shivered.

“Agreed. Can I participate too? After I’ve had my breakfast naturally.”

“Course ya can!” Bob said, patting his shoulder. “I hoped ya’d wanna come, i’s not the same without ya.”

Rebecca had a distant look which seemed to mean _“oh wonderful I love being the third wheel”_ , but Bob completely failed to notice. Ryoji took his meds, ate his breakfast quickly, and the three of them left the place.

The fence was tall, dark and solid. It never reflected the sunlight – on the contrary, it always seemed to absorb it. Bob, Rebecca and Ryoji were standing on a patch of raw dirt, where no plants ever seemed to grow. They had found shovels in the workshop, and soon they began to work. The sunlight was rather painful, the dry earth hard to dig through: soon they were out of breath.

“It really bugs me tho,” Bob said out of nowhere. “How they were _real people_ in Ferdie’s execution. Like, y’know, actual breathin’ folks.”

Ryoji felt himself growing dizzy upon hearing the word ‘execution’. Rebecca was answering something that sounded like “it was to be expected, such a big organization can’t work with a few people only”, but he was barely listening. He tried to focus on the dirt, and the dirt only. If he thought about the execution, he’d begin to think about Ferdinand and Aphrodite, and then Lisa and Lucien, and then the nails, the hammer, the blood, and-

He sat on the floor and rubbed his eyes. He was crying again. Somewhere near, Bob rushed to hug him, but he barely even felt it. It took Ryoji ten full minutes to calm himself.

“I’m sorry guys, I think I’m going to lie down for a bit.”

“Of course, dun’t worry ‘bout us. Ya want me to accompany ya to yer room?”

“No, I’m okay, thanks.”

Ryoji got up and left. He didn’t meet anyone on his way to his room. He fell on his bed like a brick, forgetting to even remove his shoes. He fell asleep without realizing it, and was woken up several hours later when someone shook him lightly.

“What is it?” He asked in a pasty voice, eyes still closed.

“It’s me, Jordana. I brought you some food.”

Ryoji rubbed his eyes, and forced himself to sit. He still felt a little dizzy, and wondered if it weren’t an after-effect of the anti-depressant.

“Food?” He asked stupidly. “But I already had breakfast.”

“It’s 2pm, Ryoji.”

“Oh shit.”

She was holding a tray with a plate of mashed potatoes and a glass or orange juice. He took it without thinking, and began to ate. He felt ravenous: the content of the plate wasn’t nearly enough to fill his stomach.

“How are you doing?” Jordana asked.

“Weird,” Ryoji replied. “I feel like my body is… heavier than usual, somehow.”

“Maybe I gave you too much to eat?”

“No, I don’t think that’s the case… but maybe you’re right. Or maybe I’m just getting fatter.”

“It’s not impossible. You’ve been eating a lot, lately.”

“It’s my meds,” Ryoji explained. “They increase my appetite. It’s happened before, but it’s annoying.”

His belly rumbled.

“I’m still hungry,” he stated pointlessly.

“You might as well come to the restaurant with me then,” Jordana said neutrally. “Bob and Rebecca made a discovery, I think you’d want to see it.”

Ryoji left the bed obediently. His whole body was sweaty because he had slept under the covers with all his clothes on. He felt filthy, which made his whole situation even worse, but he didn’t dare ask Jordana if he could take a shower break.

“So uh, how are you doing?” He asked to break the silence, as they walked side by side toward the restaurant.

“I had a nightmare,” Jordana explained. “Ferdinand and Aphrodite were blaming me for their death, saying I should have died instead of them. Then their blood turned into disgusting worms who began to eat me alive.”

“Yikes,” Ryoji commented, shivering. “That’s horrible!”

“It’s okay. Magalie is probably feeling a lot worse than me.”

“Has anyone seen her?”

“I brought her some food, but she refused to leave her room. I guess she needs some time to process what happened. Gwenn wouldn’t leave their room either, and Florian’s been missing all day.”

Ryoji nodded, and they kept walking in silence. Inside the restaurant, Rebecca and Bob were seated at the same table from before. Ryoji ignored them, and walked directly to the kitchen. He grabbed a saucepan, filled it with water, put it on the stove, and waited for it to boil. He dumped a whole box of spaghetti inside, stirred a little, and took them out before they were even fully cooked. He didn’t find any tomato sauce, so he mixed his food with ketchup, and brought it back to the restaurant, eating directly from the pot. He had no idea why he was feeling so hungry, but he felt like a starved man. He ate quickly and carelessly, often staining his cheeks with sauce. Once he was almost done, he suddenly realized everyone was staring at him. He blushed.

“What is it?” He asked defensively. “After all we’ve been through, I’m not allowed to binge a little?”

“Oh you are, of course, it’s totally fine,” Rebecca said quietly, looking away.

“Sure, I did the same this mornin’,” Bob added, scratching his beard.

Somehow, that made him feel even worse. He would have almost preferred if they called him a pig and expressed their disgust frontally. He wiped his cheeks with a handkerchief, and asked:

“So, you discovered something?”

He was hoping to change the subject.

“We did,” Rebecca said uneasily. “It’s the last thing we expected to find, though.”

“What was it?”

“A coffin,” Bob said bluntly. “And get this: we asked Monoblade who it belonged to, and he said it was probably Roberta’s foster mom!”

“Roberta?” Ryoji repeated in shock. “Roberta like our Roberta?”

“Yes, the Roberta that Alexander killed a century ago,” Rebecca confirmed. “We’re not sure what this means, but apparently she lived here for a while?”

“That’s very suspicious,” Jordana chimed in, placing her index finger against her temple, frowning. “It’s hard to imagine she knew nothing about the killing game, considering it would take place in her own home. And yet she never warned us about it.”

“She didn’t exactly seem to trust us tho,” Bob commented with a shrug. “But we been thinkin’, mayhaps she was workin’ with the kidnappers? Like an insider, makin’ sure everythin’ flows good and proper. If tha’s the case, she got what she deserved when ‘Lexander killed’er,” he added darkly.

“Has Monoblade confirmed anything?” Ryoji asked.

“No, nuthin’. But he obviously knows more than he tells. To me, tha’ makes Roberta look even more suspicious.”

“I see,” Jordana said, slapping a mosquito which had just bit her arm. “So it’s another mystery for us to figure out. They’re just piling up on top of each other. The virus, the war, the broadcast, and now Roberta’s past… what did we get ourselves into?”

“A huge mess,” Rebecca replied. “But it looks like the whole world is a huge mess right now, so… it’s fitting, in a way.”

“Has anybody warned Florian?” Ryoji suddenly asked.

“Eh? About what?” Bob asked in return.

“About the coffin, and the information Monoblade gave you. He and Roberta were very close, so it feels like he should know, right?”

“Hm, makes sense,” Rebecca admitted. “I’ll send him a text on my Monopad.”

“Or I could just go to him directly,” Ryoji countered. “I wanted to talk to him anyway.”

“But we don’t know where he went,” Jordana objected. “He’s been missing all day.”

“I’ll just have to search the campus then,” Ryoji replied with a shrug. “He can’t have gone far.”

He got up from his chair, and walked back into the kitchen. Opening one of the high cupboards, he grabbed a box of cookies, then left through the back-door. His bloated belly made it difficult to go through the narrow passage, but he ignored it and pushed through. As it turned out, he didn’t have to go very far to find Florian, for the young man was simply standing in the graveyard, in front of Roberta’s grave, which he had covered with flowers, arranged in a beautiful bouquet. Ryoji didn’t want to disturb him, so he sat on the floor, back against the oak tree, and snacked on the cookies as he waited. For some reason he was still hungry, and though his belly ached with each bite, he didn’t stop snacking.

Fifteen minutes later, Florian walked away from the graveyard, and finally seemed to noticed him. By this point, Ryoji had finished all the cookies.

“Oh, it’s you,” Florian said wearily. “What do you want?”

“I wanted to talk to you for a bit, if that’s okay.”

Florian’s eyes narrowed, and he was about to retort something nasty before he caught himself. Perhaps he was finally remembering Magalie’s lesson, and realized he should wait to hear what Ryoji had to say instead of assuming he already knew. Sighing, he crossed his arms, and asked:

“Fine. What do you want?”

Ryoji brushed off the cookie crumbs from his shirt, and got up.

“There’s a few things I needed to say, but I’d like to ask how you’re doing first.”

Florian eyed him suspiciously.

“Why do you need to know that?”

“Florian,” Ryoji replied with a sigh. “I care about your safety, and it’s obvious you’re not doing well. I’m just wondering if I can help you in any way.”

“You can’t do anything for me,” Florian replied hastily.

“Are you _sure?”_ Ryoji insisted.

“I’m positive.”

“Have you talked to Gwenn since the last trial?”

“I tried, but they won’t respond. It’s pretty frustrating, honestly. Why don’t they want to talk to me?”

“They probably feel very guilty for the way they hurt you. I would feel the same, in their place.”

Florian replied with a “tssk” which seemed to mean _‘such nonsense’_. Ryoji hoped he would eventually gain some emotional intelligence, for Gwenn’s sake.

“Uh, anyway,” Ryoji said, scratching the back of his head. “Me, Bob and Rebecca have been digging in the parking lot, and-”

“Is that why you smell so bad?”

Ryoji wailed.

“S-sorry,” he mumbled, taking a step back. “I didn’t realize I was bothering you.”

“It’s fine,” Florian replied with a sigh, to Ryoji’s astonishment. “So what did you find?”

“Uhm...”

Ryoji awkwardly summarized the result of Rebecca and Bob’s findings. Florian didn’t interrupt him, and nodded once Ryoji was done.

“I see. Thank you for telling me. I will probably visit the site when I get the time.”

He put his hands inside his pockets, and stared at his feet.

“I was About to search the 3rd floor. I assume it is now accessible, and though I don’t care all that much about what could be up there… it’s always worth investigating. Would you care to join me?”

Ryoji was so surprised he forgot to close his mouth.

“Oh, of course! I haven’t been up there yet, and I’d be more than glad to come with you!”

“Take a shower first, though,” Florian commanded.

“Yes, yes, of course. I’ll be quick!”

Ryoji ran away from the graveyard, so shocked by this sudden turn of events that he tripped and fell as he entered the kitchen. He was about to leave, but cut himself a slice of bread for the road. Somehow, he was _still_ hungry, though he had no idea how.

He took a quick shower, trying to _not_ think about the fact that Julie had been standing on that specific spot when she had been murdered, then got out and put some new clothes on: sport shorts and one of the Monoblade-brand t-shirts which said “STAB HERE” with an arrow pointing to his belly button. He met Florian in the AI room and they walked up the stairs together.

“So what do you think we’ll find up there?” Ryoji asked conversationally.

“Nothing good, I bet.”

The eastern wing on the 3rd floor looked like some sort of factory. There were long and narrow assembly lines with half-finished projects resting on top of it. Miscellaneous pieces of wood, plastic and various metals had been hastily sorted in a mess of crates. There was a tool rack, some chairs, desks and computers, large posters taped to the walls with instructions for building various machines. The biggest piece of furniture was a large metal locker containing gray uniforms.

“It’s strange how whenever we discover one of these rooms, they look like they’ve been hastily abandoned,” Ryoji commented. “But it’s obvious someone has been here very recently to clean everything up. So why are there half-finished projects on the assembly lines? Is it just for the artistic effect?”

“Who knows,” Florian commented as he inspected one of the posters. “Hm. You might want to see that.”

“Huh? What is it?”

Ryoji walked close to the poster Florian had been inspecting. It contained very detailed instructions on how to build a small robot which looked a lot like a toy bear.

“Well if that’s not Monoblade, I must be blind.”

“Not, it’s definitely Monoblade,” Florian asserted. “There can be no doubt.”

“Indeed, that’s me!” Came Monoblade’s voice from behind their back.

They turned around: the little robot was lazily resting on one of the assembly lines, like a person resting onto a beach towel.

“Congratulation students: you’ve found the place I was born into! Oh the sweet memories it brings...”

“Cut the act,” Florian said bluntly. “And don’t give us this birthplace nonsense. We know there’s a real person behind the robot. Why don’t you show yourself already?”

“Now now, have a little more patience, Florian. Everything will happen in due time. Anyway, what do you think of this new room? Is it to your taste?”

“It’s a room,” Ryoji replied stupidly. “I don’t really get what we’re supposed to do here.”

“What, are you serious? Open your eyes, kiddo! Don’t you see all the wondrous possibilities this room brings?”

“Wondrous possibilities…?”

“Think creatively for fuck’s sake. Think about all the different murder plots you could commit here! You have all the tools at your disposal to build a very complex machines!”

“What, _that’s_ what you meant?” Florian asked with disdain. “How idiotic. We’re not here to entertain you.”

“Now that’s just wishful thinking,” Monoblade replied with a laugh.

“I don’t get it,” Ryoji blurted out. “Why does it matter so much that we kill each other? Why do you want it to happen so bad?”

“Of course you wouldn’t understand, boring boy,” the robot said, and Ryoji could almost hear the rolling of the eyes. “You’ve been given so many opportunities, and you haven’t even attempted to hurt anyone! Truly pathetic.”

“Obviously I haven’t!” Ryoji shouted in shock. “That’d be inhumane!”

“Eh, who cares about that? Well, if it bothers you that much, my superiors like to remind me that we work for the greater good, so...”

“The greater good?” Florian repeated, detaching every syllable very clearly. “Our kidnappers are forcing us to play a killing game, but that’s all for the greater good? What?”

“Yeah, you heard me,” Monoblade said with a laugh. “I don’t really get it, honestly. Or maybe I do and I’m just lying? How mysterious.”

He left before Florian could punch him. There was a moment of concerned silence.

“You think he was being serious?” Ryoji ended up asking. “You think our kidnappers...”

“I think he was serious, yeah. But I don’t see how that makes any sense, honestly. What benefit is there to killing a bunch of college students? We’re not a threat to the world.”

“True,” Ryoji admitted. “I think we should tell the others later though. It might be important information.”

Leaving the factory, they found themselves in the elevator room on the 3rd floor. It was strictly identical to the elevator room on the 2nd and 1st floor: massive elevator at the center, blank walls, and a bunch of crates and cardboard boxes lying around, filled with random objects.

“Ropes,” Florian began. “Scissors, paper plates, dice, grape juice bottles, bandages, plastic cups, pencils. It’s as random as last time.”

“We didn’t ask for any of this, did we?” Ryoji asked. “So why is that here?”

The cardboard boxes had been placed on the floor randomly, sometimes stacked on top of each other. They each contained one type of item, in various shapes and sizes. There seemed to be no logic to the distribution, or the placement in the room. It was a riddle in itself.

“Oh no, not again,” Ryoji complained as he noticed a specific crate.

“What is it?”

“This one contains poisons. Arsenic, strychnine, cyanide… Jesus, this is making me sick.”

“Damn, there’s at least fifteen different types in there,” Florian estimated.

He crouched next to the box and frowned.

“Wait a minute,” he mumbled under his breath. “This isn’t… huh?”

“What’s wrong?” Ryoji asked.

“It looks like someone came here before us.”

“Uh, how can you tell?”

“Look at the other boxes. They haven’t been touched, and their content is still neatly organized inside. But these bottles are messy, because someone came here, and shuffled through them. Maybe they even took something.”

“That’d be bad,” Ryoji agreed. “What do we do?”

“I don’t know,” Florian admitted. “I would throw these away, but it just feels pointless, honestly.”

“Pointless it may be, it’s still satisfying to get rid of dangerous poisons,” Ryoji noted.

“You’re right. Maybe we could throw these down into the sewers, like the others did before? And then we’ll ask the others if they know anything about stolen poisons.”

“Works for me.”

The trip down to the sewers was quick. Ryoji and Florian threw each bottle into the murky waters, watching them floating away, or hearing the bottles break when they hit the rocky bottom. All in all it was a very satisfying task, despite the gloomy atmosphere and bad smell. They exited the room together and walked back up to the 3rd floor. It was only as he climbed the stairs that Ryoji realized he was getting hungry again, but he tried to ignore the sensation and move on.

North of the elevator room, there were simply more offices. They were labeled 301, 302, 303 and 304, and were identical to the ones on the first floor.

“I don’t think we need to spend all too much time in there,” Florian commented as he exited 302. “I doubt we’ll find anything of interest here.”

Ryoji’s hand was on the handle to 303: despite Florian’s opinion, he opened it anyway. Whatever he had expected to find, it wasn’t that.

“Dad?” He said in astonishment.

“What?” Florian shouted. “Where?”

Ryoji pointed to a poster taped above a desk. It was a rather large picture of a man in his fifties, who looked somewhat angry. The resemblance with Ryoji was rather difficult to spot, but they had the same tiny brown eyes.

“That’s your father?” Florian asked pointlessly. “But why is he here?”

“And why do they call him ‘Premier’?” Ryoji asked blankly. “His name isn’t Premier. His name is Lontano Sorrentino.”

“Premier?” Florian echoed. “Wait, doesn’t that remind you of these weird graffiti we found in the sewers some weeks ago? _‘Beware Premier’_ it said. Do you think that’s the same Premier?”

“I have no idea,” Ryoji admitted.

“Monoblade, come here quick,” Florian commanded, snapping his fingers. “Explain this situation at once,” he added once the robot had landed on the desk.

“Eh? What’s there to explain?”

“Why is my dad on this poster?” Ryoji asked in puzzlement. “And why do they call him Premier?”

“Oh, that dude? That’s not your dad, it’s Roberta’s dad. Learn to tell the difference.”

Ryoji was even more confused.

“What? But I’m not wrong, I mean, come on! You think I wouldn’t recognize my own father?”

“Hm, good point. Maybe your dad also happens to be Roberta’s dad, then? Ohoho, that means he fucked outside of his marriage, that’s juicy gossip there. I mean, you should know better than me, Monsieur Sorrentino, right? Was your father the kind of man to have an affair with another woman?”

“Uh… he definitely was,” Ryoji admitted uneasily. “He was never at home when I was little, so I guess it’s not impossible he was leading a double-life. But then...”

“But then that would mean Roberta was your step-sister,” Florian suddenly realized. “What on earth is going on here?”

“And why is my father on this picture?” Ryoji asked stubbornly.

“Oh, I can’t really tell you that I think,” Monoblade pondered. “I’ll give you a hint though: your dad is a very important figure to this research lab’s history. Hence the nickname. Now if you don’t mind, I’ll be on my way.”

He disappeared without a warning. Florian shot Ryoji a suspicious look.

“So it’s not only Roberta who’s linked to this place, but you as well. What’s going on here? Are you hiding something from us, Ryoji?”

“No, I really am not,” Ryoji said sadly. “I don’t understand what’s going on here, I don’t know what my father was doing before he disappeared, or if he’s even still alive today. I know nothing.”

He expected Florian to get angry, but he received a pat on the shoulder instead.

“That’s okay, I understand. Family issues can be tough. I should know.”

“Thank you Florian,” he said with a sigh of relief.

“Now let’s search the rest of this floor. We’re almost there.”

“Sure. Uh, do you happen to have a snack on you? I’m really hungry.”

“No, nothing. Surely this can wait?”

“Probably,” Ryoji replied uneasily.

His mouth was watering, his stomach was violently protesting. He thought maybe he could drink something, to at least ease his tongue a little, and make his body _believe_ it was satisfied. He unconsciously scanned his surroundings, in hope to find a bathroom. The facility had one on every floor, so surely-

Yes, there it was, in the north wing’s hallway. Ryoji went inside, opened the tap and threw his face into the sink, and drank. And drank. And drank some more. He only stopped when his stomach began to hurt, and left the bathroom to meet a concerned-looking Florian, who didn’t ask any questions.

They walked toward the western wing in silence, and found a very large room called the ‘virus room’. It was another science lab, only much bigger than the ones from the 1st floor. The southern half had working tables, precision tools, syringes, computers, files, odd little plastic boxes filled with unknown liquids, and for some unknown reason, various potted plants everywhere. Ryoji could picture scientists in white lab coats walking around, talking about chemicals, transfers, blood tests and other things. He felt bad about his ignorance, but the only thing his brain produced was “Ah yes, this is where smart people gather to do the science. Probably illegally.”

The second half of the room was a set of hospital beds, separated by curtains. Ryoji wondered if the viruses had been tested on actual people. It sent a shiver down his spine.

“Ah, there it is,” Florian was saying. “I’ve found the files.”

“What files?” Ryoji asked.

“About the viruses that were studied here. I feel like it could be useful.”

Ryoji looked at the file on top of the pile.

“Furantur? Oh right, that’s the one Aphrodite taught us about. It was artificially created by the GTU’s researchers, but they accidentally set it free and it killed many people. That’s why Lorient had to burn down.”

“Artificially created?” Florian repeated. “Hm. You don’t think those were _all_ fabricated?”

Ryoji’s eyes widened.

“Surely not…!”

“We’ll probably learn more if we read these files. I’ll bring them down to the restaurant so that the others can see them too.”

“Good thinking,” Ryoji approved.

“However, there’s a point I’m concerned about.”

“What is it?”

“They all came from the same shelf, but there appears to be one missing. There was a trace of dust where it should have been, so I can only assume one of us took it, and quite recently too.”

Ryoji rubbed his temples.

“I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for this,” he argued. “Uh… yeah, after all, we don’t have to jump to the worst conclusion, do we?”

“One of us came here early, stole a bottle of poison and a very important file concerning a virus,” Florian replied coldly. “There’s an obvious pattern here.”

“It could be a coincidence…?”

“Oh _really_ now.”

“Look, I don’t know what to think. This is a lot to take in. Isn’t it time for dinner already?”

“No, not yet. It’s not even 5pm, actually.”

“Damn,” Ryoji said. “I could’ve sworn...”

“If you’re going to the restaurant, would you mind carrying these files with you? I’d like to inspect this room a little more.”

“Okay.”

Ryoji left Florian and calmly walked toward the staircase in the factory. His steps accelerated once he reached the 2nd floor, and he was running by the time he landed on the 1st. The parking lot went by in a flash and he didn’t pay any attention to the people he met on his way. He absentmindedly dropped the virus files on one of the tables in the restaurant, and entered the kitchen. He was completely out of breath, opening all the cupboards one by one, surprised to find them empty.

“Calm down, fat boy, I’m not done restocking,” Monoblade complained as he entered the room, pushing a shopping kart.

Ryoji looked inside the shopping kart. It was overflowing with supplies: various bags of vegetables, cheese, meat to be put in the freezer, cereals, biscuits, all kinds of fruit juice, beer and wine, flour, sugar, spices, it was like a miniature supermarket. He found himself stealing a bag of apples and biting into the first one with voracity. He barely registered the taste: perhaps it was sweet, perhaps it was acidic, his stomach was too busy protesting for him to notice. At the same time, part of him wanted to eat the cheese, to cook the meat and fry some courgettes, to open up a box of biscuits and drink a glass of wine. The mere sight of food exacerbated his hunger, his head was spinning, and he was completely ignoring Monoblade’s complaints.

He forced himself to calm down. He brought the bag of apples with him and left the kitchen (perhaps part of him remembered that Monoblade had the right to execute him if he disobeyed). He tried to eat as slowly as possible, and not in a messy way, and found the task absurdly difficult. It was like trying to pick up a book on the floor and realizing that your arms couldn’t withstand its weight: it was scary and infuriating.

“Stressed out?” Came a voice from behind.

Turning around, Ryoji found Bob resting his back against a wall. He looked a little concerned, but also a little amused by the situation.

“Freaking out,” Ryoji corrected. “I can’t stop eating since this morning. I think I might be sick!”

“Eh, really? Dun’tcha usually eat that much?”

Ryoji shook his head.

“Of course not! I usually eat like a regular person.”

Bob chuckled.

“Aw c’mon Ryo. I’ve seen ya eat, there’s nuthin’ _regular_ about it. Not that I care, mind ya!” He added, raising his hands in the air. “It’s just, ya gotta face the facts, y’know?”

“No, it’s not-”

Ryoji was looking for the right words. Of course, he should have expected this problem. No one was surprised to see a fat man overeating, it fit with the preconceived idea they had of overweight people. And _sure_ Ryoji might have overeaten a bit because of his meds, but it was nothing comparable to what he was currently feeling. He didn’t just feel hungry, he felt _starved_ , and it came with a worrying sense that he was going to faint if he didn’t eat every two hours. But how would he explain that to Bob?

“Look Bob, I know what it looks like, but I swear I’m not in my normal state of mind. Usually I can control myself better, but I’ve felt nonstop hunger since I woke up this morning, and even when I’m stuffed it doesn’t stop! It’s really scary, and- hey, why are you laughing?”

“Ah, sorry. I was jus’ tellin’ meself, tha’s such a rich people problem. Yer adorable Ryo.”

He was smiling lovingly, but Ryoji was horrified.

_He isn’t taking me seriously at all!_

“Bob I’m serious!”

“Seriously adorable, yeah,” Bob replied squeezing his cheeks. “Ya know I love ya, silly bear, yeah? No matter how big ya get.”

“But-”

“C’mon, why dun’tcha give me one o’ yer magic hugs? It’ll make ya feel better, trust me.”

Ryoji took a step back. He wanted to hide how hurt he was, but it was showing on his face.

“Bob, I know you have good intentions, but this isn’t helping me,” he whined. “I’m telling you something is wrong, why are you ignoring me?”

Bob’s facial expression changed completely: he went from seductive to serious (and perhaps even a little angry) in two seconds.

“Ryo,” he said flatly. “I _know_ what it feels like to be hungry nonstop. Ya forgot I was a hobo or sumethin’? Sure it’s annoying, but it ain’t the end of the world! Yeah, I think yer problem is cute, but it’s not _serious_. When yer hungry and it won’t go away, ya just clench yer teeth and focus on other things. If ya ignore it long enough it makes the hunger go away, and if it duzn’t, there’s plenty o’ tips I can teach ya if tha’s whatchu want, but dun’t make a whole mess about it, will ya? Open yer eyes. Besides, ya have the food here, so watcha complainin’ about?”

Ryoji felt hurt, but this time it had the taste of shame. Obviously Bob was right: he was overreacting to something unimportant. He was probably feeling hungry because of the stress, but whatever the reason, it didn’t matter. He began to cry.

“I’m sorry,” he whined. “I didn’t mean to bring some bad memories. I’ll stop acting like a baby now.”

“Really now?” Bob asked with a humorless chuckle. “Aw c’mon Ryo, I didn’t mean t’make ya cry. It’s okay, y’know? If it’s really botherin’ ya that much, I can help.”

“Thank you,” Ryoji said, sniffling.

He wanted to add something else, but couldn’t speak without sobbing. Bob took a step toward him and wrapped his slender arms around Ryoji’s body for a hug. It hurt a little because of Ryoji’s bloated stomach, but he tried to act like nothing was wrong.

“I’m sorry I got angry at ya,” Bob said. “Ya didn’t deserve it. How about we go rest for a bit, jus’ ya an’ I?”

“I think I need to be alone for a bit.”

Bob looked a little hurt, but he quickly recovered.

“’kay, cool, cool. Seeya in a bit, then?”

“Yeah, for the lunch meeting.”

“Take care then. Oh, bring a snack with ya maybe?”

“No,” Ryoji decided, firmly. “I don’t need to eat, I’m full. But thanks anyway.”

Bob raised a thumb up at him.

“’kay then, enjoy yer nap, champ!”

Ryoji left him, instantly regretting not bringing food with him. He told himself that he needed to be strong, that his hunger was merely an illusion. Perhaps if he managed to fall asleep, it would all go away…? He walked, completely lost in thoughts.

“Hello,” someone said, startling him.

Looking down, he noticed that Typhaine was in the same hallway, coming out of room 102.

“Hey,” Ryoji said. “You were in Magalie’s room?”

“She hasn’t come out all day. I figured she needed company, but...”

“But?”

“She’s a little sick. She told me she needed to sleep, so I left her alone. I think I’ll begin to make dinner.”

Ryoji’s stomach did a somersault when Typhaine mentioned ‘dinner’, but he tried to ignore it.

“Already?” He heard himself saying.

“Some recipes take a while to be complete! I’ll make soup I suppose, since that’s what I’m good at. You want to help me?”

“Sorry, I need a rest. I’m feeling a little... off today.”

“Of course, no problem. You’ll be back for dinner?”

“Sure. Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he added sincerely.

Typhaine seemed to really appreciate the compliment. They parted ways: once more Ryoji found himself alone in his room. He lied down on the bed, but didn’t manage to fall asleep. His body annoyed him: he felt its weight in every of its fibers. Even his fingers felt heavy, and he hated the way his bottom dug a hole in the mattress when lied down. His hair was too messy, his skin too hot and sweaty, his nails too long, nothing was right. And of course, his hunger wouldn’t go away.

He tried to distract himself from it by thinking about something else than food, but the only other thoughts that his mind entertained was his memory of the recently deceased, Ferdinand and Aphrodite. He could still picture them clearly, he could still hear their last words. He remembered how Aphrodite had wanted to make him her partner in investigations, how Ferdinand had tirelessly encouraged him during the trial.

“Why me?” He whispered to himself. “What did you see in me that was worth so much? I don’t see anything of the sort. I just feel stupid and useless.”

Part of him knew it was just the emotional backlash from the hardships he had faced during the previous month. He didn’t _truly_ think he was useless and stupid, but it was hard to remain positive when he was so mentally exhausted.

Ryoji didn’t know how much time passed, as he remained in bed and did nothing but ponder on the subject of his insecurities. At some point the door opened, and Rebecca came in.

“Ryoji? Bob told me to fetch you. Dinner’s ready.”

“Oh, cool,” he said with very little energy. “I’ll be there soon.”

“Hm. Let me open a window.”

The air had considerably cooled down as evening came, it felt fresh against his skin. Sadly the wind carried dust inside the room, and he winced when he thought about all the cleaning that he would later have to do.

He got up slowly and painfully, rubbing his forehead with his arm. Rebecca looked at him with pity.

“You’re not doing great, are you?”

“You could say that, I guess.”

“Is there anything I can do to help you? Whatever it is, no matter how weird. You know you deserve it after...”

She trailed off.

“Rebecca, please. I already forgave you, so why do you keep insisting that you owe me favors like this?”

“Well...”

“I don’t like to think about this too much. Can’t we just get over it? Can’t you just forgive yourself?”

“But Ryoji...”

She took a deep breath.

“I don’t know if I should really say this, but I will anyway. Ryoji, you can’t really _forgive_ me if you don’t _acknowledge_ what I did to you first. I hurt you, I used your weakness against you, I planned to kill you: this is the truth, and we can’t make it disappear. I know you have good intentions, but how can we ever hope to move on if you continually dodge the issue like this? I’m sorry, I know it’s insensitive of me, but… I needed to get it out of my chest.”

Her words hit Ryoji, and he felt like yet another brick had been dumped in his stomach. She was right, he hadn’t really forgiven her. He had tried to run away from the truth, but running away didn’t make the truth untrue.

“That’s why I want to do something for you,” Rebecca continued. “I can’t fix what I broke, but maybe I can compensate with a good deed? I understand if you want nothing to do with me, and that’d be fine, but… really, if there’s _anything_ I can do for you. Let me know. Even if it’s something weird or silly, I don’t mind.”

Ryoji pondered for a moment, but his brain was as slow as the rest of him.

“I don’t know what to tell you,” he admitted wearily. “Today is really not a good day for me, to be honest. I’ll think about it, though.”

“That’s all I’m asking for,” Rebecca assured. “Now, how about we go eat something? Typhaine made soup for us with the vegetables Monoblade provided, and it smells delicious.”

Ryoji would have rather avoided human contact, but he had promised Typhaine he wouldn’t miss dinner, and besides his stomach wasn’t going to allow him to skip a meal. So he followed Rebecca out of the room and attended the meeting. Only Bob, Florian, Typhaine and Rebecca were present. The meeting went as Ryoji would have expected: Florian summarized what they had found on the 3rd floor, they briefly discussed the ‘virus’ files, promising each other that they would start reading them on the morrow. He also asked the group if they knew anything about the crate filled with poisons (unsurprisingly, no one did), and they briefly discussed the ‘greater good’ notion which Monoblade had brought up earlier. After that, the conversation moved on to more mundane topics, like cleaning duty and internal organization.

“What do you think the next motive will be?” Rebecca eventually asked. “Monoblade’s bound to make an announcement tomorrow. We’ve been through so much crazy shit… what will he have in store this time?”

“I hope it’s something stupid like money again,” Florian mumbled. “But with how successful the previous motive was, it’s probably going to be something that threatens our lives again. Maybe he’ll try to starve us to death this time?”

“Or he’ll set some dangerous animals loose in the campus!” Typhaine suggested with frightened eyes. “And he’ll say something like: ‘kill each other before the beasts do!’”

“Geez guys, lighten up a bit, won’tcha?” Bob asked tiredly. “We’ve beat plenty o’ these motives so far: there’s always a hidden solution. Whatev’ it is, we’ll just hafta find it!”

“You’re oddly optimistic,” Florian noted.

“Heck yeah I am. Ferd said I had to protect everyone, and I mean to keep my promise! Ya dun’t betray the dead, it’s just not fair.”

“Same here,” Rebecca added with determination. “I know I’ve done very stupid things before, but I won’t let Monoblade have his way again! If my strength can be of help to any of you, you just tell me, got it?”

Ryoji noticed that she was eyeing him specifically as she said that, but he avoided her gaze. He still didn’t know how to content her will to repent, and besides, he wasn’t really listening to the conversation. He was on his third bowl of soup already, and despite how amazing it tasted, it was still not enough for his stomach. He was forcing himself to not eat anything else, but it was taking most of his concentration, since he wasn’t used to coping with this feeling.

“What about you, Ryo?” Bob asked, forcing him to focus back on the debate. “Whadja think the next motive’ll be?”

“I’m not sure,” he replied, trying to think fast. “It’s obvious our kidnappers want us to face some kind of test, from what’s written on the graves. I think the motives are part of that: they want to see which kinds of temptations successfully break us, and which ones don’t. So if we want to guess what will come next, we’ll have to think about a kind of temptation that we haven’t been submitted to yet.”

“That is a rather clever approach,” Florian estimated thoughtfully. “I never pictured things that way.”

“Oh, I see!” Bob said with a smile. “Like, money was to tempt our greed, the thing about secrets was to test our pride, and such and so on!”

“Greed?” Typhaine repeated. “Pride? That sounds like the capital sins here! Are they trying to see if we’re _children of Satan?”_

She shivered just from pronouncing the name out loud.

“I dunno about Satan, but that approach to the capital sins might be worth something,” Rebecca pondered. “They’ve tested our greed and pride, so what’s left? Starving us would be attacking gluttony, but they could also target our sense of envy, by showing us happy people around the world.”

“Happy people?” Florian repeated. “But there’s a war going on. And everywhere else, there’s still the pandemic.”

“I’d rather face a war and a pandemic than a killing game, honestly.”

“I dunno if this capital sins thing is goin’ anywhere,” Bob reflected. “I mean, imagine a lust-based motive? That’d just be dumb. What, ‘oh hey we’ll pay ya a whore if ya kill yer classmate’? That’d make no goddamn sense.”

“We’re not getting anywhere,” Florian admitted. “Once more, we don’t have enough clues to come to a satisfying conclusion. We’ll have to wait until tomorrow to find out what the motive acctually-”

He was suddenly interrupted by someone loudly knocking on the restaurant’s front door. In less than a second Rebecca and Bob were on their feet, rushing to see what was going on. Ryoji followed them from a safe distance. They found a very angry-looking Jordana, holding her left leg as if she had been injured.

“Curse you people!” She shouted. “Do you fucking never check your monopads or something? I’ve been sending you a million texts god fucking dammit!”

“Oh, uh… I musta left mine in my room,” Bob admitted embarrassingly.

“More importantly, what’s happening to you?” Rebecca asked worriedly.

“I have no clue,” Jordana replied in frustration. “But I can’t bend my left leg anymore. It’s like it’s turned to stone or something. And it hurts like hell!”

“Have you called Monoblade?” Ryoji asked in terror.

“Yeah, dozens of times. Little bastard never came. Monoblade, if you hear me, I’ll be frying your mother for lunch!” She yelled to the ceiling.

“Uh… okay, this is definitely weird,” Rebecca admitted. “You’ve had issues like that before in your life?”

“No, never,” Jordana said grumpily. “I have no idea where this is coming from.”

“We’re not medical experts,” Ryoji said desperately. “If Monoblade doesn’t answer our calls, how are we supposed to fix this?”

“Wait,” came Florian’s voice from behind. “Hold on a second.”

Everyone fell silent. He looked a little nervous as he walked toward the table where Ryoji had laid down the virus files. He picked one up and started to read in silence. Nobody interrupted him for a while, until Jordana spoke again.

“Care to fill me in? Do these papers explain why I can’t move my left leg anymore?”

“Indeed,” Florian said quietly. “This is called the Medusa virus: any subject who’s affected will progressively lose the ability to bend their limbs. Left unchecked, it can cause the subject to lose the inability to bend anything, including their muscles and organs, resulting in certain death.”

He turned around to face the group, and showed them the file.

“We don’t have to look any further: _this_ is the new motive. If we don’t kill each other soon, these viruses will kill us all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's back, and part 5 is underway! I'm afraid the pacing is a little fast in this chapter, I might come back later to fix it. Sorry for the inconvenience. But yeah, what do you think will happen next? What kind of viruses will we see, how will they affect the group dynamic, and how'll the next trial go?


	48. Quarantine and Nightly Obituary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was originally going to make this chapter much longer, but then I realized day 2 hadn't even started yet and we were already 7 pages long, so I figured I could just post this chunk and work on the rest. Enjoy.

Monoblade quickly came to confirm Florian’s suspicion. He proudly stood at the center of the table, one foot into Typhaine’s plate of soup.

“Well kiddos, I wanted to wait until tomorrow morning to explain the new motive, but I suppose now is as much of a good time as any, right?”

Rebecca helped Jordana walk inside the room and sit on a chair, while all the others sat. Ryoji placed one hand on his stomach apprehensively. He knew what was about to happen, but he was still scared to hear it.

“As you may already know, the GTU is great at making artificial viruses,” Monoblade explained in a conspirator’s tone. “The most deadly one has always been the Furantur: its ability to turn people into irrational and insane monsters is the reason Lorient had to blow up all those years ago. But it’s not the only one the GTU’s research party came up with! The others aren’t so deadly, but quite nasty things anyway. You don’t want to be infected, trust me.”

“And so, we have three days to commit murder, is that it?” Jordana asked, teeth clenched. “It’s really getting old. Can’t you just kill us all so we can get this over with?”

“Jordana!” Rebecca shouted in anger. “Don’t say that!”

“Now it’s very interesting you would suggest that, Jordana,” Monoblade said delightfully. “If you want all of you to die, there are ways, you know? There’s no limits to the amount of people one can kill, but you can also use the class trial to your advantage. Unsolvable murders aren’t that hard to come up with, if you can get someone to cooperate. But I digress.”

“Criminally so,” Florian snapped. “You are supposed to explain the new motive, so get to it!”

“Pfuhuhu, you’re so funny Florian. Do I really need to explain anything? You’ve all figured it out by now. Well, not exactly, so I guess I should clear up a few details. For example, the rule of three days doesn’t apply here. I can’t exactly tell how long it’ll take for those viruses to kill you. Some of them aren’t deadly, but could seriously damage your body, so keep it in mind. Anyway, whenever one of you kills someone, I’ll give you all the cure. It’s quite effective, honestly! You’ll be feeling better in a flash! Well, maybe in an afternoon, actually.”

“An afternoon?” Florian repeated. “And how are we supposed to investigate, pray tell, if we are still suffering from the after-effects of your _stupide_ virus?”

“That’s not my problem, boy. Deal with it on your own, I don’t care!”

“How many of us are already infected?” Ryoji asked wearily.

“Five people, I think.”

“Five?” Typhaine squeaked in horror.

“Indeed, and you’re one of them soup girl!”

“I’m… infected?” She repeated, getting up from her chair and standing away from the others.

“Is it contagious?” Bob asked seriously.

“Probably,” Monoblade said with a shrug.

“Do you know who’s infected with what?” Jordana asked very quickly.

“I do! We’ve been using mosquitoes to directly implant the viruses into your bodies, you see. Well… robot mosquitoes, but you probably couldn’t tell the difference anyway. The point was to choose targets at random.”

“So what am I infected with?” Typhaine asked desperately. “I… I don’t feel sick, is that normal?”

“It’s quite recent in your case, so that’s probably it. You’re infected with the anorexic disease, whose name should give you a clue. Subjects infected with this virus have their sense of taste affected, making everything taste gross! Your digestive system will also be gradually weakened, making it hard to digest anything, and thus resulting in excessive vomiting, stomach aches, diarrhea, fun stuff like that. Oh, and you know the best part? For as long as you’re sick, it will be harder for your body to absorb nutrients properly, so you’d theoretically need _more_ food than usually to sustain yourself properly! So in short: if you eat a lot, you’re screwed, if you barely eat, you’re screwed, and it doesn’t even matter because everything tastes gross. Have fun!”

Typhaine was too shocked to say anything. She took off her cap and squeezed it against her chest, shaking in fear. Rebecca got up from her chair as if she was going to comfort her, but then hesitated.

“’kay, so Typh’s sick, and it’s the same for Jordie and Mag,” Bob summarized. “Who else’s been infected?”

“Me, right?” Ryoji asked, afraid to hear the answer.

“Yep, you were one of the first!” Monoblade said proudly. “You would have loved Typhaine’s sickness, wouldn’t you fat boy? Out of everyone here, you can certainly afford to eat a little less. But no! Hilariously, fate decided that it would be the other way around, and to grant you the hungry disease. Subjects infected by this one will feel insatiable hunger, all day and all night. It sounds harmless enough, but it can strongly affect your ability to focus, and your sleep schedule. But that’s not the best part! This virus also makes your body very good at absorbing fat, so it’s going to be very _very_ easy for you to gain weight. Like stupidly easy. How do you like that, huh?”

Ryoji got up from his chair, trembling a little, but he shook his head.

“It could be worse,” he said with resignation. “What about the others? What did they get?”

Monoblade seemed a little annoyed to not have a more epic reaction, but moved on anyway.

“Florian already explained Jordana’s virus, so I don’t have to tell you all again. Magalie caught the most common one out there: it gives you a fever, runny nose, makes you cough, stuff like that. Kinda like the coronavirus, but less dangerous. It’s the most contagious out there, so be careful! It has a stupid latin name, I think it might begin with a ‘h’, you’ll read the files if you want to know.”

Everyone was holding their breath. Hungry disease and Anorexic disease, common illness and paralysis, that made four viruses. That meant there was only one left: the most dangerous of all, claimed to turn someone’s personality upside-down, the Furantur virus. It was probably the real motive, Ryoji figured. The others were bad enough, but the Furantur was powerful enough to turn anyone into a murderer. And there were only so many people it could be.

“So who contracted the last one?” Rebecca asked very slowly.

“I dunno, Gwenn probably,” Monoblade said with a little laugh. “Why, I don’t think anybody has seen them at all today, right? That’s super suspicious!”

Florian suddenly turned white.

“No,” he said firmly. “No no no. This is one of your stupid twisted jokes. Not Gwenn. Anyone but Gwenn!”

“Go check their room if you’re so worried! Who knows what you’ll find there?”

“You bet I will!” Florian yelled in anger, getting up from his seat. “And I will deny your stupid lies, bear!”

He stomped out of the room angrily, quickly followed by Ferdinand and Rebecca. Ryoji moved to follow them, but was caught by Jordana before he could leave the room.

“Don’t go.”

“Why?”

“We’re infected. It’s better if we stay away from the others for now.”

Ryoji watched helplessly as the three others left the room. It frustrated him that Jordana was right. In fact, he couldn’t even stay close to _her_. He didn’t want to be infected with two viruses at the same time, because that would probably kill him.

But how would he know if Gwenn was all right?

_**_

Florian was the first to reach Gwenn’s room, and by this time he had cooled down a bit. He was beginning to accept the fact that his friend was probably infected with a deadly disease, and was trying to think of solutions to this problem. He found them sitting on their bed, gazing at the ruins through the window. They turned around upon Florian’s appearance, looking confused and worried.

“What’s going on? I thought you didn’t want to see me anymore. Did you… change your mind?” They asked, sounding a little hopeful.

“Huh? Oh, I guess I _did_ say that. I didn’t really mean it, but that’s not the point! Gwenn, how are you feeling?”

By this point, Bob and Rebecca had also entered the room, and Gwenn understood that the situation was serious.

“How I am feeling…? Uh, fine I suppose. Why? Did something happen?”

“Yes, what happened is that you might have been infected with a virus which could potentially turn you into a bloodthirsty maniac,” Florian said, folding his arms.

“Uh,” Bob began. “Ya coulda been more tactful, but aight.”

“Hold on, _what?”_ Gwenn said in astonishment. “Slow down, I don’t understand anything!”

“It’s the new motive,” Rebecca explained, taking a step forward. “Monoblade just told us. Were you bit by a mosquito recently?”

“Just a moment ago, yes, but why?”

“It’s too late,” Florian said desperately. “They’re already infected.”

“But they look fine,” Bob argued.

“It’s because it hasn’t been long enough, but in a few days...”

“What happens in a few days?” Gwenn shouted worriedly. “What the hell is going on?”

Bob and Rebecca exchanged a concerned glance, trying to find a way to explain things without making it seem like the end of the world, but Florian spoke before they could.

“The Furantur virus begins by affecting your perception of your environment,” he said slowly. “I haven’t read the file in full yet, but I assume it means all kinds of sensory illusions. Then the subject loses their ability to control their emotions, and worst case scenario, it comes with memory loss. That’s the virus you’ve been infected with, Gwenn.”

They had gone white as a sheet, but shook their head firmly.

“No no, that makes no sense. There’s no proof I was infected, was there? Monoblade is just lying to us again! I mean, let’s face it, that’d be… completely unfair, right?”

“Unfair?” Bob repeated, genuinely surprised. “But when have things ever been fair?”

Gwenn had no reply. They got up from the bed, placing a hand on their shoulder. Rebecca, Bob and Florian were on the other side of the room, blocking the only exit.

“Stop it,” they said in frustration. “Don’t look at me with those pitiful looks! Even if I am infected, which I _still_ doubt, we don’t know how fast-acting this virus even _is_ , or how it’ll affect me. For all we know everything will turn out okay!”

“Uh, yeah?” Bob said. “It’s a possibility. There’s also a possibility the virus inside ya (which is meant t’turn ya into a killin’ machine) will do _exactly_ wha’ it’s s’posed to. Turn ya into a killin’ machine. Judgin’ from what’s been happ’nin’ these last few weeks, I’d be tempted to believe the worse.”

“It’s been especially hard to remain hopeful lately,” Rebecca admitted. “I mean, I’d like to believe you’re not infected Gwenn, I really would! But...”

“But it would be foolish not to take measures while we have the time,” Florian said severely. “You understand this isn’t against you, right? Monoblade is trying to trap us again, but we can’t let him win so easily. We’ll treat this disease like any new infection: with practical measures and safety guidelines.”

“But-” Gwenn began.

“’sides, we know how ya behave under pressure, Gwenn,” Bob said with a sigh. “I hate t’say it, but I’d rather be able t’keep an eye on ya this time. We dun’t have bombs here, but that don’t mean we’re safe.”

That last argument was enough to shut them up. They looked down in defeat, scratching their arm nervously.

“Guess I’m going to jail then…?” They asked uncertainly.

“That’d work,” Bob agreed. “There’s a bathroom near, and we could bring ya yer meals-”

“No,” Florian said firmly. “Gwenn is not a prisoner, because they didn’t do anything wrong. They… _you_ deserve more than this.”

Florian shook his head.

“We should use one of the apartment suites above the restaurant. There’s only one entrance in each, and it would be easy to bring you your meals. The door can be locked if absolutely necessary, we’ll simply have to keep the key readily available in the restaurant. Besides, you would have your own bedroom and bathroom: it will be lonely, but not uncomfortable. That’s the least we can do.”

Gwenn looked surprised. They wiped they eyes and nervously tried to comb their hair with their fingers.

“I won’t cause trouble,” they promised. “Will you… visit me, every now and then?”

“Of course,” Florian said seriously. “And we will practice social distancing, obviously.”

“We can promise you that,” Rebecca assured.

“As long as ya dun’t bite us when we come,” Bob added with a shrug.

“All right. I suppose I might as well go right away, then.

Overall, it was a sad departure. Florian had the annoying impression he was assisting an early burial. Gwenn used their old suitcase to carry their clean clothes, stuffing as much as they could inside.

“Feels weird,” they commented as the others watched. “It’s like I’m leaving. Like I’m going to take the train again and abandon you guys.”

“This place has gotten so big, and with so few of us now… ya kinda _are_ leaving us,” Bob admitted.

“Wow, you’re so good at comforting people Bob!” Rebecca said sarcastically.

“Besides, that’s not true,” Florian added. “Stop saying that, will you?”

Gwenn left the room, and only Florian followed them to the apartment suite. By the time they reached the restaurant, Jordana, Typhaine and Ryoji were already gone. They climbed up the stairs, and found themselves in the narrow hallway again.

“Oh look, the door to apartment suite n°1 is still busted,” Gwenn noticed. “From the time Bob broke into Lucien’s room. Sheesh, it feels like it was a century ago, but it was not even two weeks. What the hell.”

“I don’t remember Lucien very well,” Florian confessed. “There,” he said as he opened the door to apartment suite n°2. “Better use this one, in case we need to lock the door.”

“Okay.”

Gwenn walked through the door, and dropped their suitcase. They cast a glance around the room, admiring the interior. They turned around.

“Thanks,” they said softly. “For supporting me. I really thought you didn’t want to be my friend anymore, after the whole bomb thing.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m still mad at you for doing something so stupid,” Florian said threateningly. “I could have died, and it’s your fault.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“That being said, I should probably forgive you sooner or later,” Florian said, adjusting his glasses. “When we were all in danger, at least you thought about the others. I was so focused on myself that I couldn’t see anything else.”

“And you attack Aphrodite with a crowbar.”

“I did,” Florian admitted in shame. “We’re probably equally guilty in this situation. But… we can change, can’t we? Aphrodite told me I could change. She wanted to help. Shouldn’t I try to honor that?”

“I don’t know,” Gwenn said. “Only if you think that’s a good idea.”

“Roberta wanted to help me change as well,” Florian recalled. “She was giving me self-defense lessons, back then. I don’t remember anything from what she taught me.”

“Nothing at all?”

“I tried recreating the moves in my own room, but nothing came to me. It’s been too long.”

“Oh.”

“Now that I think about it, Ferdinand tried to help me as well. And I dismissed it by calling him a fake. Later it was Magalie: she wanted to help me understand other people’s points of view, to show me better ways of communicating. Healthier ways. Even Jordana helped me in her own way, by pointing out my flaws in front of everyone. She did it in a rude and irritable manner, but… in a way, it _did_ help me too.”

Gwenn remained silent. Florian looked astonished.

“I don’t understand,” he admitted. “Why are so many people willing to help someone like me? I’ve been nothing but mean, rude and conceited since my arrival here, so why…?”

“Because you hurt yourself more than you hurt us, by behaving like that,” Gwenn replied quietly. “They… we can see through you, you know? That’s why we wanted to help.”

“That still hardly makes any sense to me,” Florian said as he shook his head. “But I’m definitely not going to waste everyone’s effort now. It’s my turn to help others, as one of the few who remain uninfected. I will do my best to support my fellow classmates in this time of crisis. That, I promise you!”

Gwenn smiled, and rubbed their eyes a little.

“Look at it,” they said with genuine emotions. “Babies grow up so fast.”

“Don’t make fun of me!” Florian threatened.

“Sure, sure. But for real, thank you Flo. You made me feel a whole lot better.”

“You’re welcome, obviously.”

“What will you do now?”

“Probably visit the grave Ryoji told me about earlier. The one where Roberta’s mother is resting.”

“I see. Well… good night Flo. Don’t forget to wash your hands. I don’t know how these new viruses spread, so let’s stick to the basics, right?”

“Yes. Good night Gwenn.”

The door closed, and Florian left the hallway in silence. Finding the ‘grave’ wasn’t difficult: Bob and Rebecca had forgotten to plug the hole they had previously dug. Only one edge of the coffin was visible under the dirt. Florian grabbed a shovel, and began to dig some more. The parking lot was dimly lit by the crescent moon, but it was enough for him to see what he was doing. It took him forty-five minutes (and a few breaks) to complete his task, but by the end, the coffin was completely unearthed.

Then Florian did something incomprehensible: he opened it.

“Ah,” he said quietly. “So I was right.”

He stood there for a moment, staring at the contents of the coffin, then took something and closed it. He spent another hour covering it with dirt again, then left to have a shower – and once he was done with his shower, he went to bed. Tomorrow, he would add a stone to mark the placement of the grave, and would plant some flowers to honor the dead person buried underneath. The others didn’t need to know the coffin was just another lie.

**

It was 2am, and Ryoji couldn’t sleep. Hunger was entirely to blame: with each passing hour, it was getting worse. He had brought a full bottle of water to his room and a couple snacks, but they had only served to make him hungrier. Desperate and frustrated, he left his room on his own and returned to the restaurant. He shivered, not from the cold, but because he didn’t like being alone at night. Part of him wanted to wake up Bob so that he didn’t have to do this alone, but the poor boy deserved his sleep (and besides, Ryoji recalled that they needed to have a serious conversation sooner or later – in the meantime, everything would be awkward).

Once in the kitchen, Ryoji turned the lights on, and opened the fridge. He grabbed some butter and jam, a few bottles of grape juice, then dropped everything on the table, next to the bread. He didn’t have enough energy to cook anything, and besides his body kept sending him alarm signals, meaning that he had to eat right away. So he ate. His goal was to eat so much that his hunger would finally shut off for good, at least for a short moment. But he soon realized that that was impossible. Every bite he took made him hungrier for the next one, it seemed like the cycle was potentially endless. He eventually stopped eating, but that was only because his stomach was so bloated that the pain was strong enough to distract him from his hunger.

“Fuck,” he wailed. “It hurts so much… is it going to be like that every day?”

He wiped his eyes, which had already begun to water. No, he wouldn’t cry. Jordana’s situation was far worse than his, he knew it. They had read the virus file, she had two weeks to live, at best. And even if she survived, it wasn’t certain she would ever recover the use of her legs.

“Monoblade?” He called, almost timidly. “Are you watching us, even at night?”

He wanted to try something. It had already been done before (by Lucien, mostly), but perhaps after all this time… who knew. However he wasn’t certain Monoblade would even show up. There was a human behind the machine after all, and humans needed to sleep-

“Well hello, you wish to speak to me?”

Oh, never mind. There he was.

“Yes, I do, but… how are you even awake at this hour? You’re watching us every day, every night… isn’t that exhausting?”

“Oh, it is!” Monoblade said with a chuckle. “I didn’t expect anyone to care, though. If anything, knowing I have to suffer from sleep deprivation should make you happy, right?”

“Not really. So how do you do it…? Do you just drink a lot of coffee?”

The human behind the robot yawned loudly.

“I do. There’s also an alarm system that reacts whenever someone calls my name, so it wakes me up at night if someone needs my attention. The alarm is _so_ annoying by the way! It’s very very loud, so basically if you want to torture me, you just have to call my name a bunch of times. Eventually I’ll turn fully insane and… probably die.”

“That’s horrible! Why are you even telling me this?”

“Because I know you won’t use it. That being said, you never tell Jordana about this secret, got it?”

“I wasn’t going to anyway.”

Ryoji wasn’t really fond of torture, even when it concerned deranged maniacs. Learning about Monoblade’s living conditions made him feel even worse than before.

“So why did you call me exactly?” The robot asked, setting him back on track. “I assume it’s not to idly chat about my daily life, though I wouldn’t mind that. I’m really lonely.”

“I wanted to ask… why are you doing this? No, why are you _still_ doing this?”

“By ‘this’, do you mean something specific, or the killing game as a whole?”

“Everything! Giving us motives, watching the camera footage, directing the trials, orchestrating the executions, all of that!”

“Don’t yell at me kid, I do a lot of evil stuff, it’s hard to know which thing people are talking about specifically.”

Ryoji gave him a blank look, and Monoblade laughed again.

“Okay okay, fine. It’s a legit question, so I suppose I can answer it. But I thought I told you guys already though? I’m no longer in control of things. I have to continue the killing game. If I don’t, my superiors will kill me.”

“Isn’t there _something_ you can do though?” Ryoji asked, persistently. “Can’t you really do anything to help us?”

“All I can do is give you hints about the truth of the killing game, granted they’re vague enough. And even that is dangerous. If it looks like I’m too helpful, I could easily be removed.”

“They’re watching your every move?”

“Oh you bet. And unlike me, they don’t have to worry about sleep.”

Ryoji frowned.

“What does that mean…?”

“Oh, uh… just that, since there’s more than one people on the job, they can take shifts.”

He sounded nervous, as if wondering if he had been allowed to say that at all. But there was no stroke of lightning coming from the sky to destroy him, no ominous alarm or bomb ticking, the robot remained in place and nothing happened.

“I feel bad for you,” Ryoji admitted.

“Don’t,” Monoblade ordered. “I deserve what I got. Remember you’re talking to the man who created a killing game and framed his own wife for it just so he could have his revenge against her for divorcing him.”

Ryoji blinked, then blinked some more. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“You _what?”_

“I know, right?”

“That’s… absolutely ridiculous!” Ryoji shouted in astonishment.

“It is! I’d laugh about it, but I’d rather cry.”

“There are therapists for these kinds of things!”

“I know.”

“And even if you can’t afford it, someone could have helped you! Anyone with an inch of common sense.”

“Oh, money wasn’t the issue. I’ve inherited quite a lot from my uncle. That’s how I originally funded the killing game, actually.”

“But then, why…?”

“I was stupidly conceited, and thought I didn’t _need_ anyone’s help. Thanks to my job, I grew an irritable tendency to consider people as variables. You know, little dots on a graph. I thought money could get you out of any situation, granted you’re willing to do enough paperwork. And I’ve always been amazing at paperwork.”

Ryoji didn’t know if he was supposed to cry or laugh. It was all so stupid, so utterly absurd that he had lost his ability to think coherently.

“Uh… but don’t you wish you could go back in time and fix it?” He heard himself asking.

“I do, but there’s nothing I can do now. What is done is done, and I have to run the killing game until it’s completed.”

“And you can’t-”

“Help you, no. I could do one last act of rebellion and die for it, sure but… I doubt it would go very far. Also I want to keep being alive for as long as possible. Because the more I suffer, the better you kids can get your revenge, right?”

“We don’t want you to suffer. I already told you, it brings us no joy at all.”

“Ah, too bad. Then there’s really nothing I can do for you, is there?”

Ryoji thought very hard for a moment. Somehow, Monoblade was willing to help – that was a miracle in itself. He had to make something of it, something that would be useful to the group. But what could he possibly ask for? Of course, in those circumstances, he couldn’t focus, and all the words would escape his brain, like a flock of scared fish attacked by an angry shark.

“What can you tell me about my dad?” He heard himself asking.

“Ah, interesting approach. Well, what _can_ I tell you?”

“Florian suspected me earlier. He thought that my dad was maybe involved with this killing game, just like you.”

“Oh, there’s not much risk of that. Your father has been dead for a while.”

Ryoji remained silent. Monoblade scratched his robotic ear.

“Oops. I forgot people got upset when you announced the death of their relatives. I guess I’ll just… awkwardly leave.”

He didn’t wait for a confirmation and disappeared. Ryoji didn’t react. Once again, he didn’t know how to feel. He had barely even known his father – and considering his disappearance, he had never really believed the man could still be alive. Still, the man was his father. And to learn the truth so late, about this man he barely knew, it did _something_ , though he couldn’t tell what.

“What a weird night,” he said to himself.

He got up, and went to bed.


	49. Dreams, Pigeons and Hand sanitizer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a little hard to write. On the one hand there's a whole lot going on, and on the other it's not enough. The mood is constantly switching, because I've been writing it over the course of (a week? More? I don't remember). I hope you enjoy it anyway (I don't get much in terms of criticism for this thing, but if you have ideas/advice don't hesitate to comment on it)

Ryoji was on the roof. The roof of what, he wasn’t sure. It was night time, and yet he could see clearly. The moon was especially bright that night, huge like in Hollywood movies. He had the sensation that the floor was a little unstable underneath his feet.

“The floor is a little unstable,” he said out loud.

He instantly regretted it. Saying it out loud somehow made it feel more real, somehow.

“You are right, the floor is unstable. Isn’t that your fault?”

He turned around. Lisa was nonchalantly resting her back against a metal gate, which didn’t look very solid.

“Watch out,” he said. “You could fall.”

“It doesn’t matter if I fall. I already died, remember?”

“You… did you? I don’t remember you.”

Lisa moved from the barrier, and grabbed him by the shoulders. The light of the moon illuminated her face, showing multiple wounds. There was even a human tooth impaled into her eye. Her blood was leaking onto Ryoji’s hands, making them hot and itchy.

“I’m someone you shouldn’t forget,” she said. “We were friends, and I trusted you. But was that smart of me? Everyone’s dying around you. What have you done to stop it?”

Suddenly they were in a hospital: on Ryoji’s left and right, there were two rows of beds, which seemed to stretch endlessly into the distance. There was a body in each bed: sometimes, the person was sick, but sometimes it was a corpse. Lisa was still touching Ryoji, punching him in the shoulders and gut.

“You’re hurting me,” he complained.

“I want you to wake up. You’ve slept long enough.”

He heard some footsteps coming from behind, and noticed Aphrodite walking toward him.

“You’re not doing enough,” she said quietly. “You should have destroyed the gates by now. Why didn’t you?”

“His fate is already sealed,” another person added (was that… Roberta’s voice? It had been so long, Ryoji wasn’t sure). “Even if he reacts now, he can’t save anyone. Especially not himself.”

“I have faith in him,” came Ferdinand’s booming voice. “Ryoji is not to be underestimated.”

“Your faith is useless here,” Lisa said coldly, hitting him again.

“Why are you hitting me?” Ryoji complained. “It’s beginning to hurt.”

“Because you need to wake up, Ryo. Yer havin’ a bad dream. Hey c’mon, it’s me. Open yer eyes.”

Ryoji obeyed. The hospital vanished to reveal another one.

“Bob?” He said in a sleepy voice.

“It’s me. I was a bit worried for a moment there. Ya were mutterin’ in yer sleep and wouldn’t wake up.”

Ryoji rubbed his eyes, trying to remember the dream he had just had. But no matter what he did, it wouldn’t come back to him. He faintly recalled Lisa’s voice, and that was it.

Then something struck him.

“Bob? Why are you in my room?”

Bob adjusted his beanie.

“Well, I was s’posed to sleep on the 3rd floor with Flo and Becca, but I been struck with insomnia. I guess it’s cuz I’m so used to sleepin’ with ya, it jus’ won’t come when I’m on my own. So I came down here t’sleep with ya. It was real late, ya didn’t notice me.”

“You _slept with me?”_ Ryoji repeated in astonishment. “But Bob, I’m infected. Why would you do that?”

Bob removed his beanie, and began to fiddle with it.

“Dun’t get mad, please… for all I know, we could both be dead by tomorrow. I jus’ wanted to spend one night with my boyfriend. Is that such a crime?”

“It’s completely irresponsible!” Ryoji said in fear.

He got up from his bed, and moved around the room, careful to create a safe distance between himself and Bob. He pointed both hands to his chest.

“This virus I have, it’s literal torture,” he explained, hearing the strain in his own voice. “Being hungry like that nonstop, it’s...”

“Sumethin’ I’m already used to,” Bob said quietly.

“No, you’re not! You think you are, but you’re not! Have you ever eaten so much that you felt like the insides of your stomach were going to burst? Have you ever stuffed yourself to your limit, and still felt like a starved man? No you haven’t, because this virus isn’t like any ordinary human experience! It’s a malicious sickness whose sole purpose is to make people suffer! I don’t want you to catch it!”

“But ya looked so sad in yer sleep,” Bob said meekly. “I wanted to comfort ya. Yer sayin’ I shouldn’t have?”

Ryoji didn’t reply.

“I wouldn’t mind catchin’ the virus, y’know,” Bob added. “If it’s _that_ bad, I dun’t want ya to be facin’ this challenge on yer own-”

“Bob!” Ryoji shouted in terror. “Are you even hearing yourself?”

“Okay okay, fine!”

Bob threw his beanie to the floor.

“I get it, ya need sum’ alone time. I’ll be outta yer way. Sorry.”

He left the room hastily, pulling a surgical mask out of his pocket and applying it to his face before closing the door behind himself. Ryoji was still trembling in fear.

“That’s not what I meant,” he whispered to himself sadly. “Why is he acting so weird?”

He left the room after Bob and went directly to the water room to wash his hands. Next stop was the kitchen, because obviously he was starving. But before he could leave the hallway, he saw the handle to room 101 move on its own.

“Hello?” He said uncertainly. “Is someone in there?”

Then he remembered that the rooms were soundproof, and that whoever was inside probably couldn’t hear him. With an inexplicable anxious feeling, he opened the door himself, and found Jordana lying on the floor, looking morose.

“Fucking finally,” she said grumpily. “I thought everyone had forgotten me.”

“What’s going on?”

“Can’t move my legs. I’ve tried to crawl out of here, but it’s kinda hard to reach the handle. And I think I left my monopad in the fridge.”

“In the fridge?” Ryoji repeated. “Why in there?”

“You ask too many questions.”

Ryoji hesitated. On the one hand, he didn’t want to touch Jordana at all, in fear of infecting her with his own virus (or catching hers). On the other hand, she was crawling on the floor and needed help.

“Monoblade?” He called to the ceiling. “I think I have a request for you.”

Monoblade didn’t bother to actually drop from the ceiling: instead he simply peaked through the hole.

“Way ahead of you, kiddo. You’ll find it in the elevator room.”

“Uh… what will I find in there?”

“A wheelchair, obviously. Isn’t that what you were going to ask for?”

“Oh, right, it is.”

Ryoji cast Jordana an awkward glance. She was still lying on the floor like a slug.

“Don’t mind me,” she dismissed with a lazy hand gesture. “I love being a carpet, it’s a passion of mine. In fact, why don’t you stomp me while you’re at it? Keep treating me so _royally_ and I might begin to believe I actually have some dignity.”

“I’ll go get the wheelchair,” he said quickly.

He ran to the elevator room, and quickly found the wheelchair. He sat on it to test how comfortable it was, but got up right away, seized by the irrational fear that it would break under his weight. He also found a box filled with surgical masks, grabbed one and wrapped it around his face, before leaving the room with the wheelchair.

Back in the hallway, he found Jordana in the same place he had left her. She had only crawled a little further into the hallway, but her legs were still in the room. She was resting her face on her arms, looking grumpy.

“Took you long enough,” she commented.

“Sorry. C’mon, I’ll help you sit on this thing.”

It was a lot harder than Ryoji had expected. He could have done with a little more arm muscle, and she could have probably done with _any_ leg force at all. Dragging her in a sitting position on the wheelchair while she couldn’t bend her legs made for a ridiculous spectacle.

“You’re so big, I thought you could carry me super easily,” she reflected. “I should have asked Rebecca to do it instead.”

Ryoji saved his breath. The task was already complex enough without having to handle her sass. Suddenly a thought occurred to him, and he felt compelled to say:

“I’m one of your biggest fans, you know.”

“What? Why the hell would you tell me that _now?”_

“I… uh… I just thought about myself, in the past. If someone had told me that one day I’d be dragging the amazing Jordana Castillo to the ground like an old carpet, I would have probably called them insane. And yet here we are.”

“Crazy the surprises life can save for us,” Jordana replied with a hint of amusement. “Ah, fucking finally, there we are.”

She was finally seated, arms on the arm-rests, inspecting each function of the wheelchair carefully. It was a very basic model: she had to wheel it by herself, or be pushed by someone, but there was no engine inside.

“Eh, not bad,” she appreciated. “It’s rather comfy.”

“Can’t you bend your legs at all?” Ryoji asked worriedly.

“I can, but it takes an absurd amount of time. Like, if I start flexing now, maybe I’ll finally be done by lunch?”

“Wow. Okay, your illness is on some whole other level.”

“You can say that again at the end of the week, when you have gained 20 extra kilos and none of your clothes fit anymore.”

Ryoji winced, and pushed the wheelchair forward. She was right, but he didn’t want to think about it.

“I mean, that’s rather optimistic on my part,” Jordana admitted. “It’s assuming we don’t have any new murder by the end of the week, which is unlikely.”

“Uhm… you don’t have to say things like that...”

“Last time we were in a situation like this, it had barely been a day and a half and we had already two murder plans on our hands. I’ll be surprised if we last the afternoon.”

“Jordana!”

“Sorry. Being negative helps me relieve stress.”

“My therapist used to say that being overly negative has a bad effect on your mental health.”

“Your therapist ever went through a killing game? I’d like to see her try to stay positive in a situation like _this_.”

“Maybe she did,” Ryoji replied stubbornly. “I mean, you’ve been put into a killing game twice by now, so it’s not looking so unlikely anymore.”

“Yeah well- actually, that’s a fair point.”

Ryoji wheeled Jordana to the restaurant, where Typhaine was already seated. She looked sick, but that wasn’t exactly surprising.

“Hey Typh’,” Jordana said in faux-cheer. “You look horrible, is the virus kicking already?”

Typhaine didn’t reply. Magalie came out of the kitchen, carrying a bowl of soup, which she placed on the table. She was wearing a gray sweater above a green sweater, a scarf, a beanie, thick gloves and a surgical mask. Her attire made her look like someone on their winter vacations, minus the snow. She coughed six times and drank a whole glass of (hot) water before she could finally talk.

“No need to question Typhaine, she won’t talk since this morning,” she explained in a raspy voice, which was barely above a whisper. “I think we should give her some space.”

Ryoji nodded and grabbed Jordana’s wheelchair, leading her toward another table.

“Are you sure you should be out of bed?” He asked Magalie in a worried tone. “You look like you need rest.”

“Oh please, don’t talk to me about rest,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “I’ve done nothing but resting yesterday, and you know what? It’s exhausting!”

“Exhausting…?” Ryoji repeated in confusion.

“I think she’s talking about _aburrimiento,”_ Jordana offered. “Boredom.”

 _“_ _M’en parle pas,_ I haven’t felt so bored in ages!” Magalie complained. “Your brain is spinning and spinning, shouting up thoughts and ideas, but all you can do is lie down and _feel bad.”_

“I know the feeling,” Jordana agreed. “Not a big fan.”

“Anyway,” Magalie said as she shook her head. “I’m making breakfast. You want something?”

Ryoji heard his stomach growling. He nodded, perhaps with a little more vigor than intended.

“I suppose I could entertain my flesh prison for a little longer,” Jordana said thoughtfully. “It doesn’t know it’s going to perish soon, so it’d probably yell at me if I didn’t feed it. So yeah, I’ll be having some breakfast, I suppose.”

“Whatever you say.”

Magalie went inside the kitchen once more, and Ryoji followed her, because he was worried she wouldn’t make him enough food. He had to explain to her what exactly his virus did, to which Magalie replied:

“So if we want to fight this virus, I’d better make you some rice and beans. It’ll fill your stomach pretty quickly, so even if you’re still hungry, you won’t be able to eat too much.”

“Makes sense,” Ryoji admitted.

He left her to it (because it was pretty hard to help someone cooking while keeping a safe distance), and returned to the restaurant. That’s when he noticed Typhaine was waiting for him.

“Hey,” she said in a little voice.

“Hi?” He replied uncertainly.

“Can you cough on me please?”

Ryoji blinked at her, in hope that she would notice how puzzled he was. But her cap was in the way, and he couldn’t see her eyes.

“What?” He eventually said. “Why would I do that?”

“If you think coughing is too weird, can I at least spend some time with you? Stay close, maybe touch your arms a little? Please don’t say no, I promise I won’t bother you.”

“But uh… I don’t want you to get sick, Typhaine. Have you forgotten what’s going on?”

She removed her cap, which somehow made Ryoji feel more scared, as if it were a sign of the apocalypse.

“Getting sick is the point,” she explained. “Our viruses are complementary, right? If I catch yours, maybe I’ll be able to eat again.”

“But we don’t know that,” he objected. “It might seem like a good idea at first glance, but I don’t think that’s how science works. For all we know, having two viruses at once could fuck us both real bad!”

Typhaine let out a little gasp.

“Really?”

“Yes! It could be extremely dangerous.”

She put her cap back on and took a step back.

“I see. Sorry I suggested that. The thing is, I finally took my pregnancy test this morning, and it’s positive. I’m pregnant.”

She swallowed. She was breathing a little fast.

“And… and I can’t eat properly because of my virus. But if I can’t eat properly, what will happen to my baby? Is he going to starve? I know Lucien did some bad things, but I don’t want to kill his child!”

Her eyes were watering. Ryoji’s first impulse was to hug her, but he forced his arms to stick to his own body. What could he do? She was right: the virus could have a horrible impact on her pregnancy. She had every right to be sad and upset.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Uh… maybe we can ask Monoblade just in case? Maybe it’s actually okay.”

The robot came quickly, but he missed the landing and broke his arm as he fell to the floor.

“Aw shit, I’ll need to fix that later. I wouldn’t want to have to run my own body discovery announcement.”

“Monoblade,” Ryoji said firmly. “What happens if one of us contracts more than one virus?”

“Eh? Oh, it would be horrible. We made a few tests, the subjects rarely survived the night. One of them committed suicide because the pain was too intense. Crazy stuff.”

“It’d be like a death sentence, then,” Ryoji summarized pointlessly, feeling the sweat running down his back.

“Definitely! You’d better stay away from each other, kiddos,” he added with a chuckle.

“You monster!” Typhaine shouted, fists clenched into balls. “Couldn’t you have told us sooner? You realize I’m expecting a child?”

“Eh, I’m already responsible for the death of ten people. Compared to that, killing an embryo doesn’t seem like such a big deal, does it?”

“Shut up! Of course it makes a difference, you idiot! Every life matters! This one isn’t even complete, and you want to bury it already? You… you… unholy devil! Go die in a hole!”

Ryoji had never seen Typhaine so angry before. Her shrilly voice was so intense that he actually had to cover his own ears.

“Sorry,” Monoblade said, sounding sincerely hurt. “You’re right, I was stupid. Take care.”

And he left.

“Coward!” Typhaine yelled at the ceiling. “Come back here right now!”

“Typhaine,” Ryoji said, feeling his eyes begin to water. “Please calm down!”

“No! I’m sick of this! I don’t want to have to deal with any of this anymore! I just want to destroy everything and go home! Or...”

“Typhaine?”

Ryoji turned around, and realized that Rebecca had entered the restaurant. He didn’t know how much of the conversation she had heard.

“What is it?” Typhaine asked, sounding upset.

“You mind coming here for a second? I’d like to talk with you.”

Typhaine adjusted her cap, and mumbled an agreement. Her and Rebecca left the restaurant together. Ryoji’s shoulders slumped, and he wiped his eyes with a tired sigh. Then suddenly he remembered how hungry he felt, and walked back to the table, sitting next to Jordana, who seemed a little shocked by the altercation.

“That’s not something you see every day,” she commented as she fixed her hair. “You know Ryoji, I’m beginning to think we should work on some kind of escape plan, sooner or later. There’s no point in winning or losing this killing game if we’re all completely insane by the end.”

“Please don’t say things like that.”

Magalie came out of the kitchen and put the food on the table. She then sat on her chair, removed her surgical mask, and fished through her pocket in search of another one.

“I heard some shouting. Where did Typhaine go?”

Ryoji was already shoving rice and beans into his bowl, filling it to the brim. It was too hot and burned his tongue, but he barely even noticed.

“Rebecca’s taking care of the situation,” Jordana explained. “How are you holding up?”

“I’ve been better,” Magalie replied. “I’m trying to be a brave girl, walking around and doing stuff, but my body has been considerably weakened and everything hurts. I don’t want to, but I think I’ll have to go back to bed later. And on top of that, if I eat anything, I’ll probably throw up.”

“Tough luck.”

“What about you Jordana?”

“Oh you know. I’m working out very intensely to bend my legs at the moment, but they’re moving so slowly that the human eye can barely detect the movement. It’s fun.”

They exchanged a concerned glance, and then laughed. Ryoji was too busy eating to share the fun.

“Hello everyone,” came a voice from behind. “I hope you’re well. I mean… as well as can be in these circumstances.”

Florian was awkwardly standing near the front door, hands behind his back.

“Well if it’s not our favorite neighborhood rat!” Jordana cheered. “Come to have breakfast with the infected?”

“Hi Flo,” Magalie said neutrally.

Ryoji’s mouth was too full for him to speak, so he waved with his left hand. Florian looked a little annoyed by the strange greetings, probably because he didn’t know what to make of it.

“I’ll join you later. First I need to visit Gwenn.”

“Sure, take your time” Magalie replied. “You’ve seen Bob around somewhere?”

“He’s smoking in the parking lot,” Florian replied with a vague gesture.

He left them to eat in silence. Ryoji tried to force himself to eat slowly, and wondered when he should talk to Bob again.

“So Magalie,” Jordana said with a smile. “Here we are again. A motive that threatens all of our lives, and a time limit. We know what you did last time, and personally I don’t blame you, since we could have hardly survived without you. So the question is… will you do it again? And how are you going to proceed this time?”

Magalie didn’t reply right away. She coughed, sniffled and blew her nose, and tried to move the hair that was falling on her eyes with her gloved hands.

“I’m not going to shoot anyone, if that’s what you mean. I don’t want to kill.”

She looked at the sky.

“Ferdinand sacrificed his own life to save mine. What kind of a bitch would I be if I threw it all away again?”

“A desperate one,” Jordana suggested.

“No, I don’t care anymore. I’ve been stupid enough to fall for this game’s trap, but it won’t happen again. I won’t kill, or attempt to kill. I’ll just rest and try to heal.”

“Then who _will_ be stupid enough? Who will be the moron that saves us all?”

“Look, the situation is different,” Magalie snapped. “Aside from your illness, most of us can heal from ours. The body eventually learns to combat the virus, and-”

“But what if Typhaine starves before her body can kick the virus?”

“That’s very unlikely.”

“What about Gwenn? You really expect them to survive the Furantur?”

“No, but look at things that way: if you and Gwenn die, that’s two people lost. If I kill someone and sacrifice myself, that’s two people lost. We don’t gain anything from the change, and I have to die a serial murderer. I’m not saying I’m glad to see you go, but I fail to see how this is a better solution.”

Jordana didn’t react. She gave Magalie a lazy smile, and remained eerily silent. Then she grabbed the wheels on her chair, and left the room. Magalie sighed.

“And there she goes. Who knows what she has in mind this time?”

“I don’t know,” Ryoji replied as he refilled his bowl with rice.

“To be fair, I did just say I was fine with leaving her to die. Shit, I can be horrible sometimes, can’t I? Look at what this killing game is making me do.”

“It’s really tough,” Ryoji replied, feeling very stupid for not coming up with a better answer.

“I mean look at us,” Magalie continued. “Look at what we’ve _done_ since we’ve been locked here. Look at Jordana, who’s been trying to force us to kill each other to save her own skin. Look at Florian, who was so paranoid he attacked Aphrodite with a crowbar simply because she was in his way. Look at Gwenn and their setup with the bombs, look at what Typhaine and Suzie did to human corpses, and look at me! Look at what I forced Ferdinand to do!”

“You were all in desperate situations,” Ryoji said uncertainly.

“We could have reached out to the others,” Magalie countered. “We could have asked for help. We could have found a better solution.”

She wiped her forehead and sneezed.

“We were good people before this thing began. Or were we? Is the violence within us purely connected to our presence here, or has it always been a part of us, dormant and only waiting to be awoken?”

“Uh...”

“This is so frustrating. I just want to give up on everything and throw myself under the helicopter next time it comes, but I can’t forget what Ferdinand did to me. He was a true hero that one, and the best friend I could ever hope for.”

“He would have wanted you to live on,” Ryoji agreed.

“But he didn’t have any parting words for me.”

There was a little silence. Magalie sniffled again.

“That’s… probably because he wanted to say something during the execution,” Ryoji suggested.

“I don’t know. I can’t help but feel like… he wanted to punish me. I know he sacrificed himself to save me, but he really didn’t want to die, none of us would. He had so much to live for, and I robbed him of that.”

“Magalie...”

He expected her to burst into tears, but she punched the table in anger, dropping her own bowl which smashed on the floor.

“Raaaah, fuck this! I’m gonna kill Monoblade!”

“Someone calling for me?” Monoblade asked from the ceiling.

“Yes, and this is a threat!”

“Oh boy. I’d better stay away from this then.”

Magalie had gotten up. She stared at Ryoji with determination.

“I’m going to break things.”

“Uh… okay?”

“And then I’ll try to figure out a way to get us out of here. Seeya.”

**

And thus Magalie smashed some things. She started with the windows that lead to the science labs on the 1st floor, “just as a warm-up”. She then moved on to various pieces of furniture: desks, tables, chairs, and some (probably expensive) scientific equipment. Then with the help of Rebecca, they attempted (and succeeded) in damaging one of the walls in the laundromat, digging a hole large enough for a person to fit through.

“There we go,” Magalie said with satisfaction. “Now we can explore a little further. That’s not against the rules, is it?”

“I don’t know,” Rebecca said, as she threw some bricks and bits of plaster out of the way.

Ryoji was observing them from a safe distance, partly worried and somewhat excited by what they were going to find. But as soon as she stepped through the crack in the wall, Magalie was caught in a fit of coughs, and nearly collapsed from exhaustion.

 _“_ _Bordel meuf, est-ce que tu vas bien?”_ Rebecca asked worriedly.

“I think I just spit out one of my lungs. No big deal.”

“Yeah right! But I mean, what kind of a person goes around violently smashing things when they’re ill?”

“One who has to deal with anger issues.”

“Ugh, you’re impossible. I’ll be taking you to your room.”

“Hey, don’t touch me! You could get infected!”

“I know the risk, but I’m not just going to leave you like that. You need to rest in your room!”

“I can rest here,” Magalie objected stubbornly.

Rebecca blinked.

“Part of me wants to scold you for acting like such a child, but part of me admires your dedication. I’m torn. Ryoji, what should I do?”

“Uhh… maybe you could help her back to her room, but wash your hands and body right after?”

“Oh, good point. I think I’ll do that.”

“Oh please don’t,” Magalie groaned. “I don’t want to go back to my room. It’s dull.”

“I’ll let you lecture me about medieval history,” Rebecca promised as she seized her arm firmly. “Now come on, we can’t stay here all day!”

Together they walked toward the door. As she passed by Ryoji, Rebecca whispered:

“Have you thought about my little proposition?”

“I have, but I still don’t know what to answer you.”

He blushed a little, looking around nervously.

“And please, could you not phrase it like that? It makes it sound like we’re having an affair. What if Bob hears us?”

Rebecca laughed.

“Oh please. You’re gay and I’m a lesbian, we’re probably the two _least_ likely people in this group to be secret lovers. Well, now that I think about it, Florian and Jordana are probably even less likely to be secret lovers, but that’s not the point. Even if Bob did hear that, he knows that he shouldn’t have to worry.”

She looked around.

“Where _is_ he by the way? I expected you two to be together.”

“We had a bit of a rough talk this morning. I think I upset him a little,” Ryoji added sadly. “He’s probably angry at me now.”

“Hm, really? That’s bad. But I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think! Maybe you two just need some time alone, and then you can talk things out?”

Magalie was fainting in her arms, but Rebecca barely seemed to notice.

“Anyway, it seems you need to vent a little, Ryoji. How about you explore the new area we opened up for you while I bring Magalie back to her room, and then we meet up somewhere?”

“Okay,” he said.

And just like that, she was gone. Ryoji looked at the hole in the wall. It reminded him of the one created by Gwenn’s explosion back at the mall, only it was smaller, and less sooty. He stuck his head through, then clumsily moved his torso forward, putting his hands on the dusty pavement. He felt a little ridiculous, but there was no other way for him to move through the hole. To make it all worse, he noticed that Monoblade was watching him from the other side.

“Do you need help or something?”

“No no, I’m fine,” Ryoji said as he collapsed on the pavement, wiggling his legs out.

He found himself face to face with a curious pigeon, which had previously been walking on the sidewalk, eating rocks. The animal flew away when Ryoji shook his head. The man rolled on his back and got back up (with some difficulty).

Once again, he was struck to find out how utterly bland Lorient was. All the streets he had seen so far were various shades of beige. Either all the walls had been painted the same color, or the other colors had faded with time. This street was bumpy, as if it had seen a couple earthquakes, and there was a collapsed library right in the middle, onto a monument which might have been a fountain.

“What is this place?” Ryoji asked.

“Some street,” Monoblade replied vaguely. “You weren’t supposed to come here, but now that you have, I might as well let you have a walk around. There isn’t much to see though. None of the buildings here have been restored or cleaned up, so it’s mostly dust and garbage.”

“I can see the sea,” Ryoji noted.

“This path leads to the beach, but you’re not allowed to go. You’ll be shot if you do. I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“Got it.”

Ryoji decided to walk down the road. Contradictory to what Monoblade had said, it was more than dust and trash: there were some young plants, bravely growing through cracks in the cobbles, and moss covering most of the walls. He even noticed a bird’s nest inside a tiny broken window. He took a picture of it and sent it to the group chat, getting an immediate reaction from Gwenn.

[Gwenn] birds!! where is this?

[Ryoji] “Some street” is what Monoblade told me. I’m behind the laundromat.

[Gwenn] quoi

[Gwenn] how the fuck did you get there

[Ryoji] Magalie and Rebecca smashed a wall for me.

[Gwenn] whaaaat

[Gwenn] fucking hardcore

[Gwenn] you rock girls

[Rebecca] Hell yeah we do!

[Rebecca] So like

[Rebecca] What’s out there?

[Rebecca] I just came out of the shower.

[Ryoji] Ruins, garbage, and some moss. Some pigeons too.

[Ryoji] And you can see the sea in the distance, but Monoblade says we can’t go.

[Gwenn] cool

[Gwenn] damn, i wish i could see it too

[Florian] Any clues in that new area?

[Florian] Any strange message on the wall, for instance?

[Ryoji] Nothing of the sort.

[Ryoji] But wait, I think

…

[Gwenn] ryo? you think what?

[Florian] Ryoji? Are you okay?

[Rebecca] Ryo, what’s going on?

…

When Rebecca finally reached the empty street, she found Ryoji sitting on the floor and shaking. He was apparently alone, and when she quickly looked around for potential threats, she found nothing.

“Ryoji, are you okay?”

No answer. She quickly took out her monopad.

[Rebecca] found ryoji, i think he’s having a panic attack or smth

She didn’t take the time to look at the replies, and instead wondered what she should be doing. Her first reflex would have usually been to pat his shoulder, maybe give him a hug, but she knew she couldn’t. Instead she crouched in front of him, and breathed. In and out, very slowly, until Ryoji’s own breathing caught up, and he began to calm down a little.

“Hey,” she whispered. “It’s okay, I’m here.”

 _And I’m not trying to murder you this time,_ her brain reminded her viciously.

“Sorry,” Ryoji whispered back. “I need a moment.”

“Of course, take your time.”

He got up from his feet and went back inside the laundromat. Rebecca cast a look around, wondering what could have triggered his trauma. The place looked rather harmless after all. Perhaps he had seen a nail sticking out of a plank? Or…

“Oh shit.”

She quickly took out her monopad again.

[Rebecca] hey Typhaine

[Rebecca] there’s a new passage behind the laundromat

[Rebecca] how about you

[Rebecca] never go there?

[Typhaine] ?????

[Rebecca] just trust me on this one

[Typhaine] oké!

[Florian] Ah. Now I understand why Ryoji wouldn’t respond.

In the distance, a little grassy hill was barely visible among the mist. It had been mostly destroyed by the explosion, but Rebecca could still recognize the location of Lucien’s execution, with the remains of the cross, the tree and the fountain. No wonder Ryoji had had a breakdown. Rebecca wanted to throw up just from _looking_ at it. It made her think of the moment when Lucien had had to walk on the glass shards, and… better to not think about it too much. Shaking her head rapidly, she followed Ryoji inside the laundromat.

“How are you doing? Do you want a glass of water or something?”

“I need to eat. I need it. To eat some food.”

“Okay. Follow me then.”

Fifteen minutes later, Ryoji was sitting at one of the restaurant’s tables, wrapped in a blanket and sipping a hot chocolate, with a tray of hot muffins at his disposal and a large amount of fruits.

“I guess I did end up needing your help after all,” he said in a tiny voice.

“Don’t mention it. I wonder where Bob is, though? I would have expected him to come rushing when he heard you were in trouble.”

“Maybe he’s still mad at me?” Ryoji said sadly.

“I doubt it. Chances are, he forgot his monopad somewhere and didn’t see the messages. By the way, weren’t you supposed to tell me how you two got into an argument?”

“I guess.”

And so Ryoji told her everything, while he ate the muffins one by one. Rebecca was a little fascinated by how much his stomach could hold. Each time he picked up a new muffin, she told herself “surely this is the last one”, but it never was.

“… and that’s everything,” Ryoji concluded miserably, shaking Rebecca from her rêverie. “You can be honest with me: I screwed up, didn’t I? Bob probably hates me now.”

“What? Of course not! Ryoji, _he_ was in the wrong, there. Not you.”

“Maybe, but I was rude to him.”

“You were scared the first time, and you were trying to protect him the second.”

“To be honest, I was scared both times, and still am.”

“To be fair, I think we all are. None of us are prepared for this sort of situation. It’s like having to handle our own miniature pandemic.”

She sighed.

“But Bob has been careless, and you were right to remind him. Maybe it hurt him a bit, but he has no reason to be mad at you. Just give him some time and he’ll come back to you.”

“Okay. Thank you Rebecca.”

There was a short moment of silence, during which no one said anything. Ryoji was chewing grapes absent-mindedly, and Rebecca was thinking about other walls she could smash. It wasn’t at all guaranteed that it would lead to an escape, but it passed the time.

“Thanks for your help,” Ryoji eventually said. “I feel better now.”

“You’re welcome! I still think I owe you one, but I was glad I could do that for you.”

She yawned.

“It’s probably going to be lunch time soon. I should make something for the others.”

“I’ll help you,” Ryoji suggested, getting up from his chair.

“Don’t you want to speak with Bob first?”

“Oh. I guess I should do that.”

Ryoji took out his monopad from his pocket and began to type again. Rebecca turned around and walked toward the kitchen, yawning and stretching. Then she heard something breaking. Turning around again, she noticed that Ryoji was staring at her in terror. He seemed to have dropped his monopad, which had broken when it hit the floor.

“Uh, Ryoji, what’s wrong?”

“Your… your back,” Ryoji whispered. “It startled me."

“My back? Nothing happened to my-”

Then she recalled, and understood what he meant. It seemed like ages ago, but it really wasn’t that long. Bertrand had just been killed, and she felt responsible for his death. She had been completely lost and desperate at the time, looking for a way to redeem herself. And Lucien had offered a… special method, which involved a lot of pain. He had never whipped her himself, but strongly advised _“le repentir douloureux”_ , as he called it. So that her sin may be washed with blood, so she could be born anew. Looking back, it seemed completely crazy that she had agreed to something like this, but it felt natural at the time. And besides, Ferdinand had been doing it too…

But that wasn’t something she could tell Ryoji. “Oh hey no big deal, a few weeks ago I was feeling so guilty that I felt compelled to whip myself” wasn’t exactly something that would comfort him, and mentioning Lucien might be enough to send him spiraling again, which was something she’d rather avoid.

“I'm not doing it anymore, you know," was the only thing she managed to say.

"I hope so," he replied awkwardly.

There was a bit of uncomfortable silence.

“Shouldn’t you call Monoblade?” She asked, trying to change the subject. “You’ll want that monopad replaced.”

“Oh, good point.”

Monoblade quickly came and promised a new monopad by tomorrow. Ryoji ended up helping Rebecca out with the cooking, for he had no idea where Bob could be, and searching the whole campus would take too long. They made hot dogs and sandwiches, because they weren’t feeling inspired (knowing that Florian was going to frown at the meal didn’t make them feel all that bad about it).

Next they moved to the restaurant, and stuck a few square tables against one another, as to create a much larger table. That way everyone could have lunch together while remaining at a safe distance from the others. Typhaine was the first to arrive, pushing Jordana’s wheelchair (Jordana had finally managed to bend her legs properly, it seemed). Magalie arrived later, and sat the furthest away from Jordana. She was carrying a whole box of tissues with her, and dumped a large number of already used ones in the nearest trashcan. She looked terrible: her nose was red, her eyes were swollen and her hair was a mess. But at least she was here.

“Is that everyone?” Rebecca asked as she placed the food on the table. “I know Gwenn can’t leave their room, but I expected Bob and Florian to come, at least.”

“We saw Bob a few moments ago, he said he wanted to visit Gwenn before lunch,” Jordana explained. “But I have no idea where Florian went.”

“Is he going to ditch our meals again?” Magalie asked in frustration.

“No, he isn’t,” Typhaine informed. “Look, he’s coming this way.”

Florian kicked the door open as he walked in, surprising everyone. He took a few steps toward the main table, stomping his feet very loudly as he walked. He stopped as he reached the middle of the room, checked that he had everyone’s attention, and crossed his arms. He looked a little like a young military officer, full of pride and arrogance.

“Your attention please!” He shouted. “What is going on here?”

He was met with a few puzzled glances, but that didn’t seem to faze him. Apparently he was aware that what he was doing was weird. Well, that was a first.

“Having lunch…?” Rebecca said uncertainly.

“It’s a thing people tend to do, usually around noon,” Jordana said informatively. “In case you didn’t know,” she added with a friendly smile.

“I am aware” He replied seriously (as if someone had doubted that he knew about the concept of lunch). “However, I have an important question. Who made the food?”

“Ryoji and me,” Rebecca replied neutrally. “Why? Is that important?”

“It is of crucial importance! Rebecca, you realize you have been aided in your task by a sick person, right? A sick person who could potentially spread his virus everywhere by touching the food!”

“But we used hand sanitizer,” Ryoji said meekly.

Florian seemed to have expected this reply.

“And _who_ provided the hand sanitizer? Have you forgotten?”

“Well uh, we don’t know,” Rebecca said uncertainly. “It’s like everything we have here, Monoblade does the errands for us, we just hope it’s good stuff.”

“Monoblade,” Typhaine repeated. “Oh no! Are you suggesting he provided us with _fake_ hand sanitizer?” She asked, putting both hands to the sides of her face in horror. “He _wants_ us to be sick, so maybe it was all a trap!”

“That is what I think too,” Florian said proudly. “The murder motive would be much more efficient if we _all_ got sick, so Monoblade might have cheated with the supplies he provided, so as to prevent us from hindering the virus’ progress. Alas, his plan failed, thanks to my watchful eye! Rebecca, burn those hot dogs.”

“Wait wait, slow down,” Rebecca pleaded. “You’re saying we can’t trust the hand sanitizer…? But… it’s _hand sanitizer,_ I mean… it has the right smell and everything! Is it even possible to fake that?”

“Monoblade has access to a lab that can artificially produce viruses,” Florian said as he cleaned his glasses. “Do you really think fake hand sanitizer would pose them a problem?”

“I can’t believe I let that fool me!” Typhaine whined. “I should have seen it coming! You’re an idiot Typhaine, idiot!”

“I don’t know if you are, but please don’t bite your cap like that,” Ryoji pleaded. “It’s probably bad for your teeth.”

“And I was looking forward to eating these delicious hot dogs,” Jordana said dramatically, covering her eyes with one hand. “Alas, it cannot be. They shall burn.”

“They’ll really be super _hot_ dogs,” Magalie commented stupidly. “But hey Flo, I have a question for you though.”

“Sure, what is it?”

“Remember how Monoblade originally spread the viruses? He used special mechanical mosquitoes or whatever. If he wants more of us to be infected, why doesn’t he just use that again?”

Florian looked at her blankly. It seemed he hadn’t thought about that.

“Maybe he has run out of mosquitoes?” Typhaine suggested.

“Oh really?” Magalie replied sarcastically. “He has run out of mosquitoes. Why didn’t I think of that before. Hey Monoblade, have you run out of mosquitoes?”

This time, the robot didn’t even bother to come up in person: the reply came from the speakers.

“What kind of a stupid question is that? Of course I didn’t run out of mosquitoes! I have a whole army of them!”

“There you have it.”

And Magalie took a bite of her hot dog. Florian looked very disappointed, but Typhaine wouldn’t drop the issue.

“We can’t trust anything he says!” She said firmly as she got up from her chair. “Come on Florian, let’s get out of here. We can’t have lunch with people who don’t respect health regulations.”

He agreed to come with her, though he seemed a little reluctant. Both left the restaurant together, closing the door behind themselves.

“Where are they going?” Rebecca asked. “There’s no food in this area. Unless they plan to eat grass, or the tuna I left for Hope earlier.”

“Who cares?” Magalie asked. “Apparently they’re too cool to have lunch with us. So be it.”

Ryoji picked up his sandwich. He was still digesting the muffins, but that didn’t stop him from feeling starved. He took a bite out of the first one, almost timidly.

“Maybe Typhaine also left because she couldn’t bring herself to eat anything,” he said quietly. “You know, because of her virus.”

“Oh, right,” Magalie said. “I almost forgot about that.”

“Has she been eating anything recently?” Jordana asked.

“Not really,” Rebecca replied. “I made her a bowl of soup this morning, thinking maybe a drink would be easier to digest, but she barely touched it. When we talked this morning, she told me that even drinking water could be tough. She almost threw it all up when she tried, last night.”

“It’s worse than I thought,” Ryoji said sadly. “Is there anything we can do for her?”

“I wonder,” Jordana said, thinking out loud. “Let’s look at our problems. Food is gross, she can’t digest it, but she needs the calories. How do we cheat that?”

“I don’t know if we can,” Rebecca said in defeat. “None of us are doctors. By trying to help her, we might end up making things worse.”

“Unless it’s… not that hard,” Magalie said with a shrug. “I’ve been taking cough drops from the torture room, and it’s actually helped me a lot. Maybe they also have something that helps with digestion? That’d deal with one of our problems at least.”

“I guess I can go look for it later,” Rebecca said pensively. “But it’s still kinda pointless if all food tastes gross to her.”

“There are ways to counter that too,” Jordana objected. “We just need to make tests. We need to ask ourselves: is it just that her taste buds are broken? How do they react to different types of food? Maybe if we pick something very bland, with barely any taste, she’ll be able to eat it? Or maybe we can numb her mouth with very strong spices? Let’s experiment! For all we know, something will end up working. If not, what more could we lose?”

“Hm… I guess,” Rebecca said uncertainly.

“I’m on board with this,” Magalie added with a nod. “Unless she doesn’t want to of course.”

There was the sound of footsteps in the staircase. Bob came into the room, avoiding Ryoji’s gaze. He sat next to Magalie.

“What we havin’ today? Oh, sandwiches. Neato.”

He took the nearest one and bit into it voraciously.

“Hey Bob,” Magalie said after sneezing. “How’s Gwenn?”

“Good so far. I came to check if they were startin’ to go crazy in there, ‘cuz I heard some weird noises. But they’re just playin’ with them tools in the workshop, cuz they’re bored outta their skull it seems. Ya know, I’m startin’ to doubt they’re _really_ infected with the furniture virus or whatev’ it’s called. Seemed pretty chill to me.”

There was a moment of uneasy silence.

“Uh… what?” Rebecca asked. “You think Gwenn is not sick?”

“Sure didn’t seem like it to ol’ Bob, nah. Maybe I’m just not seein’ it?”

Bob looked at his classmates expectantly, surprised to meet concerned faces.

“Whatizzit? I said sumethin’ wrong?”

“Well Bob, how do I put this,” Magalie began, massaging her temples. “If what you say is true and Gwenn is _not_ infected with the Furantur virus, that means _someone else_ is.”

“Huh.”

“And that someone else could easily be you,” Jordana added.

“...huh?”

“It could also be me or Florian,” Rebecca pondered.

“But wait, didn’t Monoblade confirm it was Gwenn last time?” Bob asked worriedly.

“I honestly don’t remember. It could have been one of his tricks.”

“That’s bad,” Magalie said seriously. “If we don’t know who has the Furantur, that means we have to put you all in quarantine. Bob, Rebecca, Florian and Gwenn, until we can prove who’s really infected.”

“Say what?” Bob shouted. “I dun’t wanna go back to jail!”

“But hold on,” Rebecca argued. “If you put us all in different locked rooms, isn’t it going to make the situation difficult? We won’t be able to take care of you! I mean no offense Magalie, but you’re not in the best condition yourself, and Jordana’s moves are limited. Ryoji and Typhaine would have to feed each of us everyday, while also taking care of you two, and themselves!”

“And not to mention, Typhaine won’t be able to do much if she remains starved,” Jordana added. “So that leaves Ryoji in charge of taking care of _everyone.”_

All eyes fell on Ryoji. He pictured himself trying to take care of seven people at once, including four that were sick. That was a scary thought. Could he even do it properly?

“We don’t have a choice, do we?” He heard himself saying.

 _Why did you say that?_ His brain yelled at him. _You’re not capable of it!_

“Ryoji, are you sure?” Rebecca asked. “That’s a lot of responsibility for one person.”

“It will only be temporary,” he said carefully. “I mean, maybe the symptoms of the Furantur virus aren’t visible yet, but we’ll know soon enough, won’t we? I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

_No! I won’t be! Don’t listen to me! I’m incompetent, I’m a fraud!_

“Well… if yer sure,” Bob said uneasily.

“We need to call Florian and Typhaine back here,” Jordana said with a smile. “They’re going to _love_ it.”

Florian took the news surprisingly well. The others expected him to stomp his feet and arrogantly claim that he wasn’t going to submit himself to tyranny, but he agreed that it was the best decision. He also said that he had had doubts about Gwenn’s so called illness from the beginning. Typhaine was surprised by this sudden turn of events, but didn’t complain either.

It was decided that each of the potential infected would be kept in a locked space that provided a bathroom. Gwenn would stay in apartment suite n°2, and Florian would be in n°1 (provided someone fixed the broken handle and the lock). Bob inherited from the old prison, and Rebecca suggested the water room.

“It has a bathroom, and we could move one of the beds inside, since they have wheels. I wouldn’t mind relaxing in the bath all day, honestly.”

“But we’d have to install a lock on the door ourselves,” Magalie argued. “And that leaves us with only the bathroom on the 3rd floor, which Jordana can’t easily access.”

“So how about we lock you up on the 3rd floor instead?” Florian suggested. “You can have the whole floor for yourself, we’ll just bar the door from the outside. There are already beds up there.”

“It’ll be a pain on Ryoji’s knees to bring me food every day,” Rebecca commented. “But I guess it could work.”

“We’ll keep in contact, right?” Bob asked worriedly. “After I been with y’all for so long, it’ll feel super weird t’be isolated again.”

“That’s quarantine for you,” Magalie said.

“Or prison, if you’re that type of person,” Jordana added.

“Well, no time to waste,” Rebecca said with determination. “Let’s get to work.”


	50. Maids, Servants, and Butlers

The afternoon was spent in preparations and goodbyes. There wasn’t much to do, besides installing locks on doors, and making sure the confinement cells had everything their host would need: a working bathroom, a bed, some distractions, plus some food and water in case Ryoji came late with the meal. Out of all the newly quarantined, Bob was clearly the most unhappy one. It seemed he was afraid of something, though Ryoji wasn’t exactly sure what. They would have plenty of time to talk about it, he figured, so it was fine. Florian accepted his fate with serenity, and Rebecca did her best not to show how annoyed she was by the new situation.

“Out of all the motives we’ve had, this is probably the worst, isn’t it?” She told Ryoji as he carried the blankets she needed. “But I shouldn’t complain. At least I can still use my legs.”

Ryoji ran around quite a lot during the afternoon. Florian and Bob helped him install the locks (naturally provided by Monoblade) on the doors, and Typhaine helped a little with the moving of furniture. But soon the poor girl became too tired to move, and had to go rest in her room. Magalie was in the same situation, and once all the healthy people had been locked up in their own space, Ryoji found himself alone with Jordana. She couldn’t do much in her situation, and mostly provided moral support.

When evening came, it was raining. Ryoji walked inside the restaurant, soaked and exhausted. He sat heavily on the nearest chair, trying to ignore his hunger. Jordana was sipping tea and reading through a notebook of some kind. She gave him a neutral look.

“The stairs?” She asked.

“Yeah. Rebecca was right, they’re killing me.”

“Your knees are hurting?”

“Everything is hurting,” he confessed. “My knees, my thighs, even my _butt_ is hurting! I can’t believe I’m going to have to do that every day. I’m really out of shape.”

“That new diet of yours is probably not helping. You look a little fatter already.”

Suddenly Ryoji looked very worried.

“I… I do? Are you sure?”

“I’m not sure, no. Maybe I’m just seeing things, because I expect a change? We’d need a scale to make sure.”

“I could buy you a scale,” Monoblade said, his head popping from the ceiling.

“That would be lovely,” Ryoji replied, sounding a little disgusted. “Well… guess I’m going to make dinner then.”

“I would help you, but I can’t reach the higher cupboards,” Jordana said casually. “Also this is probably one of my last days on earth, so I might as well be a bitch and let you do all the dirty work.”

“Cooking isn’t dirty work,” Ryoji objected.

“It is when _you_ do it.”

Monoblade whistled.

“Sick burn there, Jordie.”

“Why are you still here?” Ryoji asked plaintively.

It was obvious the joke had hurt him a lot.

“I don’t have anything better to do than spy on you kids. Hell, _I_ could help with the cooking, if you want.”

“You know what? I’ll take you up on that offer. Thank you, Mr. Mercier.”

Monoblade made a weird noise, and Ryoji realized the man behind the machine had shivered.

“Please don’t call me that.”

“Why, you don’t like it?” Jordana asked with delight. “Mercier, Mercier, Mercier. How are you doing Monsieur Mercier?”

“Shut up!” Monoblade threatened. “If you don’t shut up, I’ll make your life worse!”

“Oh, try me.”

“Jordana, please,” Ryoji begged. “Let’s just get on with the cooking, shall we?”

And so Ryoji and Monoblade got to work. Or rather, Ryoji did all the work, while Monoblade read the steps of the recipe out loud for him (because his robot form didn’t have hands, he couldn’t exactly do anything else). The result was a ratatouille which didn’t look very pleasant, but tasted nice. Jordana had a small portion, Ryoji ate as much as three starved bulky men, and then filled some bowls for his friends. Gwenn welcomed the food with a smile, Florian frowned upon it but thanked Ryoji for his work (and advised him to put less salt in it next time). Bob was glad to eat food cooked by his boyfriend and asked for a refill. Rebecca complimented Ryoji on the nutritious qualities of his meal, Typhaine ate one square of courgette before setting her bowl aside with a disgusted expression. As for Magalie, she was sleeping when Ryoji came to deliver the food, so he just placed the bowl on the table next to her bed and left the room quietly.

He thought that he could finally go to bed, but Jordana had another request for him.

“I have to take a shower, but I can’t really take my clothes off on my own,” she explained when they met in the hallway that led to the water room. “You mind helping me with that?”

“You want me to… to strip you?” He asked in astonishment and horror.

“I would have usually asked a girl to do it, but none are available as you can see,” she replied distantly. “I don’t like this anymore than you do, trust me. But I don’t see any other way. I’m not just going to stand under the rain and hope it washes me efficiently, am I?”

“I guess not...”

Out of all of Ryoji’s duties, this was by far the hardest for him. Being a very bashful person himself, he wasn’t at all used to having this kind of intimacy with someone, far less with a woman. He did his best not to look at her at all, but it was hard when he had to remove her clothes himself, and put them back on afterwards. He couldn’t help but notice a number of upsetting details: where she was tanned and where she wasn’t, the fact that she kept her legs perfectly waxed even at a time like this, some scars on her legs which he had never noticed before. He was very relieved when it was finally done, and he could bring her back to her room and say good night.

“What were you reading, by the way?” He asked, pointing to the handbook she was still holding.

“Oh, that? It’s Aphrodite’s notebook. She wrote her theories concerning the killing game in there, and the result of her research. I figured it would be a shame to let it go to waste, so I began to read it.”

“You found anything interesting in there?”

“Indeed. But she had a very messy handwriting, so it can be pretty hard to decipher at times.”

“I see.”

Ryoji scratched his beard. He should probably shave it sooner or later. But for now…

“Good night Jordana.”

“Good night Ryoji. Have a good rest. You deserve it.”

He smiled to her and left. His fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.

**

A knock on the door. Magalie opened her eyes, but couldn’t see much besides darkness. What time was it? Probably very late. Who on earth would be knocking at such an hour? Her nose felt heavy with snot, she had to blow it, or she couldn’t breathe properly. Had she left a box of handkerchiefs nearby? She tried to reach out in the dark, when a thought suddenly occurred to her.

_Wait. A knock on my door? But the rooms are soundproof. How did I hear it?_

She turned her head toward the door. It was slightly ajar.

_Ah. That would explain it._

She was a little puzzled. What could be so urgent that someone would need to wake her up at such a late hour? And what were they doing, hiding behind the door like that?

_Well, if they wanted to murder me, they wouldn’t have bothered to knock. I guess it’s safe._

“Come in,” she whispered.

To her surprise, it was Florian who walked in. He flicked the switch, suddenly bringing light into the room, then closed the door behind himself.

“My apologies,” he said quietly. “I know it’s rather impolite to wake you up like this, but I need your help.”

“What are you doing here?” She hissed angrily, shielding her eyes from the light. “You’re supposed to be locked in your apartment suite. How did you escape?”

“I asked Monoblade to open the door for me. I was surprised it worked. I guess he was curious what I wanted to do.”

“He did that? Dammit, it means all this setup is useless. I’ll have to warn the others-”

“Wait. I need your help first. Please, this will only take a moment.”

Magalie squinted at him.

“This is very suspicious. Why don’t you want me to warn the others?”

“I have something very important to discuss with you alone. I don’t think anyone else would understand, but I have a feeling _you_ will.”

Magalie was a curious person. She knew the best decision would be to call the others right away, kick Florian out, and rethink their situation. But then she would never know why he came to her and her alone. She had to admit, she was a bit flattered.

“I don’t understand why you trust me more than Gwenn, suddenly,” she said prudently.

 _“_ It’s not that I don’t trust them. I know I will soon have to make a difficult choice, but they would just try to stop me. You’ll understand in a moment. I just need you to read this,” he said as he showed her a small notebook.

“A difficult choice?” Magalie repeated, ignoring the notebook he was holding. “Do you want me to kill someone again? Because I already told Jordana I wasn’t going to.”

“Please. Just read the notebook. You’ll understand everything when you do, and then you can take your own decision.”

Magalie took it prudently, as if afraid that it was going to burn her finger. She inspected the cover carefully.

“Where did you find this?”

“Inside the coffin that Bob and Rebecca accidentally dug out. There wasn’t a body there, only this.”

“And the content of this notebook will justify you coming to my room at...”

“3:34am? Yes it will.”

“And it will justify me not telling the others that you’ve broken their trust?”

“Yes, it will.”

Magalie frowned at him suspiciously. It all sounded very fishy, for sure, but it was _Florian_. It would probably turn out to be something stupid again, some kind of big conspiracy theory that would fall apart after a little thinking. If it did, he’d regret waking her up for no reason.

But on the other hand, the look he had in his eyes was something she had never seen before. He was illuminated: in a way he reminded her of Lucien and Typhaine, and their spiritual passion (which wasn’t a very good sign, truth be told).

“All right, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt,” she said slowly. “But if what’s written in this notebook isn’t worth my time, be prepared to face the consequences.”

“Oh, trust me. You won’t be disappointed.”

**

Ryoji had another nightmare, but this time it was a very stupid one. He dreamed that an angry flock of mushroom people tried to steal his underwear while he was chatting with a random woman about donuts. He was woken up by Monoblade’s irritating voice, who was singing something about monopads. Rubbing his eyes, Ryoji looked around himself for a clock, but found none.

“What time is it?” He asked in a sleepy voice.

“Oh, something like 6am,” Monoblade replied, interrupting his song. “I’m here to tell you that your new monopad has just arrived! It’s on the table next to the TV.”

“Thanks. But why did you have to wake me up for that? You could have just dropped it here and left.”

“I could have,” Monoblade admitted. “But have you forgotten already? You have a job, Ryoji, an important job to take care of! Your friends are all waiting in their containment cells for you to bring them breakfast.”

“Breakfast,” he repeated, as if the word were somehow alien to him.

“Yes, breakfast. Le petit déjeuner, el desayuno, Frühstück, whatever you want to call it. It’s right now.”

“Right. I better get up then.”

“Good thinking! I laid out some clothes for you, in case you don’t know what to wear today. They’re adjusted to your new size, by the way! We took your measurements while you were asleep.”

“That’s very creepy,” Ryoji commented sleepily.

“We love being creepy at the GTU. It’s our favorite hobby! Hey, by the way, do you want to hear a fun fact? We’ve tested plenty of people with the hungry virus, but none of them gained weight as fast as you. You’re breaking all the records! Isn’t that crazy?”

“I guess.”

Nothing really mattered in Ryoji’s hazy mind. He could be hearing all the bad news in the world, he’d register them factually and store them somewhere in his brain without really caring. He picked up the clothes that Monoblade had laid out for him. There was a tank top that said “teddy bear” on the front, with an adorable yellow plushie design.

“This is cute,” he commented flatly. “Kinda surprising considering it came from you.”

“Oh, you should look at the back, boy.”

Ryoji turned the shirt around. It showed the same teddy-bear design, only this time the bear had been stabbed with a spear, and blood and guts were leaking from the wound. It had all been drawn with an unnecessary amount of detail, and was overall quite disgusting to look at. But Ryoji merely shrugged.

“Eh. I can still wear it.”

“Wha- that’s it? That’s your reaction to my masterpiece? I created this shirt just for you, hoping that it’d make you throw up, but you just shrug and wear it anyway?”

Ryoji shrugged again. He took off his pajamas and put the tank top on. He stood in front of the mirror, looking at himself curiously. As Monoblade had told, it fit him perfectly – but if he stretched his arms, it rode above his belly button. But now that he looked at the design again, something struck him. Had he seen it somewhere before…?

“Wait,” he said out loud.

“Wait?” Monoblade repeated excitedly. “Wait for what? Did you realize something?”

“This… this is Bertrand’s art style, isn’t it?”

“Yes, you figured it out! Well done boy!”

Ryoji was a little disturbed.

“Did Bertrand paint that before he died? Where did you find this design?”

“Bertrand didn’t paint it, no. We have a team of specialists who worked very hard to copy his art style! Of course, he was the ultimate painter, so it’s not like they can ever be as good as him. But it’s a start.”

“But why?” Ryoji asked in confusion, as he removed the tank top and looked into his suitcase for something else to wear. “What’s the point?”

“I won’t tell you!”

And just like that, Monoblade disappeared. Ryoji sighed, and moved on.

Once he exited his room, he could faintly hear a voice. It was coming from the parking lot. Even from this distance, there was no mistaking it: it was Jordana’s voice. Ryoji smiled. It was always a special moment when she sang. He began to jog toward the parking lot, eager to hear more. But the closer he got, the sadder he felt. It was like a siren’s song, more powerful and painful with each passing second. His body felt heavy, and his eyes were already wet by the time he entered the parking lot. Jordana was mourning.

She had written the lyrics herself, each verse was dedicated to one of the killing game’s victims. Ryoji had missed Sébastien, Roberta and Alexander, but came just in time to hear Julie’s verse. Suddenly, she was standing in front of him again: he could picture her frilly dresses, her serious demeanor, how she held her back rigidly, the gloves she used to constantly tug at. Ryoji sobbed when the verse ended, because in a way, it meant losing her again. But Jordana wasn’t done, and she mercilessly continued singing, bringing each dead student back to life for a short time. It was especially painful for Ryoji when Lisa’s turn came: she was there, smiling confidently, grabbing his wrist, encouraging him to be brave and strong. It was as if he could feel the touch of their first hug once more, hear the sound of her bike wheels as she cycled around the campus. When she left him again, it crushed him completely, but also gave him joy. He could thank Jordana for that.

Then something else happened. Ryoji felt someone bump against his shoulder. Turning around, he noticed that Magalie was crossing the parking lot. Her facial expression was unreadable, because of the mask. She kept walking in a straight line (without slowing down for a second) and disappeared inside the restaurant. Jordana stopped singing.

“What are you doing?” Ryoji asked. “Aren’t you going to finish the song?”

Jordana didn’t seem to hear him. Unsure what to do, Ryoji waited awkwardly, while Jordana kept her gaze fixed on the restaurant. Magalie eventually came out, carrying a baguette and a box of biscuits.

“Hey,” Jordana said.

No reply.

“What are you doing?”

Still nothing. Magalie opened the front door to the research facility, and disappeared inside.

“Uh… maybe she’s having a bad morning,” Ryoji suggested.

“No one has ever ignored my singing before,” Jordana whispered. “This is more than a ‘bad morning’. This is a declaration of war.”

“Uh… aren’t you exaggerating just a little bit?”

“...maybe. But this is definitely strange.”

Jordana began to wheel herself toward the restaurant. Ryoji mercifully grabbed the handles, and began to push her.

“So… you’re going to finish the song?” He asked hopefully.

“Not. She’s cut me in my flow. It’ll take me days to find it again.”

Suddenly she wore a bitter expression.

“But I don’t really _have_ days, so I’m probably never going to sing again, thanks to her. I hope you’re ready to say goodbye to my voice.”

“I’m… I’m not sure,” Ryoji said in a tiny voice.

He placed Jordana’s wheelchair near one of the tables, and retreated in the kitchen.

“Right, breakfast. Mine, then theirs.”

He made himself a huge bowl of cereals, and ate gluttonously as he read the last conversation on the group chat. It had begun earlier than his awakening, and was still ongoing.

[Gwenn] good morning everyone! i hope you all had a great night of sleep. let’s do our best on this wonderful day

[Florian] Good morning Gwenn. It brings me joy to read your positive message as I wake up in my solitary confinement cell. We might not be able to see each other directly, but know that my heart is with you today.

[Gwenn] aww flo that’s so sweet, you made me smile!

[Rebecca] Morning you two!

[Robert] mornin

[Gwenn] so how was this first night of quarantine for you all?

[Florian] Cold. I think there might be a hole in one of my walls somewhere.

[Florian] Ryoji, if you are reading this, please bring me an extra blanket.

[Rebecca] My night was okay I guess. I’m just frustrated I have to stay locked up in here until we can pinpoint who exactly is infected and who isn’t.

[Gwenn] isn’t it cool in a way tho? to contribute to everyone’s health by chilling in one place and doing nothing else?

[Rebecca] Ugh, no way. I need to move. Kick something, maybe a shark, I dunno.

[Robert] feel you ther

[Robert] there*

[Gwenn] i see

[Gwenn] maybe u could

[Gwenn] punch a wall? i dunno

[Florian] Bad idea. Do not do this, your knuckles will thank you.

[Robert] dont tempt me

[Florian] I am very much not. I am doing the opposite.

[Robert] ima do it

[Rebecca] Bob NO

[Gwenn] say, I’m not hearing much from our other friends

[Gwenn] typhaine, mag, ryo, jordie, where you at?

[Rebecca] if you’re there, make yourself heard! :)

[Florian] Yes please. I would like to eat my breakfast relatively soon if you do not mind.

That was the last message on the group chat. Ryoji had to admit, Gwenn was asking the right question. Where were the others? Jordana was probably still brooding in the restaurant, she didn’t seem like she was in the right mood for these kinds of conversations. Typhaine might still be asleep, and Magalie… Magalie was probably resting too, he assumed.

[Ryoji] I’m here! Good morning to everyone. I’ll be making breakfast shortly, don’t worry.

[Ryoji] What would you like to eat?

Ryoji instantly regretted his question, because he was flooded with requests, which were all different from one another (and some of them required skills that he was certain not to possess). The only easy one was Bob’s. It simply said “bread”.

_I guess I’ll start with that one then. I’ll come back here for the more complex ones._

He left the kitchen, and found Jordana fiddling with her hair.

“Have you seen the group chat?” He asked curiously.

“No, and I don’t care.”

“Oh, uh… okay.”

He left quickly and ran for the first science lab, a baguette in hand.

 _Where does the bread even come from?_ He wondered as he ran. _We’re miles away from the nearest bakery, and yet the baguettes are always fresh and warm when we find them on the table in the mornings. Does Monoblade hire special people for our daily errands?_

It took Ryoji a moment to find the right key. He kept them all tied to a silver ring, which was tied to his belt, and chimed when he walked. It made him feel like a prison warden.

“Ryo!” Bob shouted happily when his boyfriend came in. “You came for me first?”

“Of course,” Ryoji replied casually. “I love you.”

It seemed to catch Bob off guard. Despite his tough guy attitude, it seemed like Bob could be very anxious at times too.

“I brought you some bread like you asked, and also a bottle of orange juice, so you can have some vitamins for the day,” Ryoji explained as he put both items on one of the working tables. “If you need anything else you let me know, okay?”

“Sure.”

Bob looked a little embarrassed; like he wanted to say something but didn’t know where to start. Ryoji waited patiently until he found the right words.

“I’m sorry ‘bout yesterday,” he eventually said. “And the day before that. I been a real dick with ya.”

“That’s understandable,” Ryoji said sincerely. “I mean, though I already _was_ sick by then, you had no reason to believe me, did you? I can be a bit of a baby sometimes, so I’m not surprised you didn’t take me seriously.”

“Dun’t say that,” Bob pleaded, sounding pained. “Yer not a baby, it’s just that ya been through a lot, yeah? With yer family and stuff, like ya told me. I know I like to tease ya every now and then, but it was just uncalled for. Major dick move.”

He placed one fist against his chest, and straightened his back.

“I promise I wun’t do it again! And wun’t come to sleep in yer bed when ya dun’t wanna either.”

Ryoji wasn’t sure what was the procedure in these kinds of situations, so he placed his fist against his chest as well, and accepted the apology.

“I have to move,” he added. “Florian ordered an _omelette_ for breakfast, I might as well start cooking or he’ll be complaining.”

“Oh, right.”

Bob squinted.

“But ya know Ryo, y’ain’t his servant, yeah? If it’s too much trouble, ya can just tell him to eat shit or sumethin’.”

“I’ll uh… be sure to keep it in mind,” Ryoji said prudently as he closed the door behind himself.

He returned to the restaurant, where Jordana was still brooding. He asked her if she knew how to make an omelet, but she told him that she didn’t care about his problems. Sighing, Ryoji resorted to taking help from Monoblade instead. As it turned out, making an omelet was far easier than he would have expected.

“Who are you making that for?” The robot asked curiously.

“Florian.”

“Oh, I see. Then you might as well add some veggies in there, or he’s going to think it’s too unrefined.”

“What kind of vegetables?”

“I dunno. There’s some bell peppers in the fridge, I guess that could work.”

Ryoji prudently tasted a bite of the omelet before bringing it to Florian. It was good enough, he reflected. It didn’t look as pretty as it did in commercials, but it could have been worse, considering this was his first attempt.

Florian winced when Ryoji handed him the plate.

“I hardly expected anything better, coming from you. It is a pity that the only one of us who can still move around is so critically unskilled at cooking. It’s making me miss the servants at home,” he added with regret. “Still, I thank you for taking the time to prepare this for me. You’ve been getting better, haven’t you?”

“Yep!” Ryoji replied with a thumb up. “And Monoblade has been helping me.”

“Now that’s curious,” Florian commented. “Well, I will not detain you. I assume you still have plenty of work to do.”

“I do,” Ryoji replied with a tired sigh. “It’s tough, being everyone’s maid.”

Next, he decided to visit Typhaine. She was resting in room 103, apparently too weak to get out of bed.

 _At this rate, we’ll have to ask Monoblade for a 2_ _nd_ _wheelchair,_ Ryoji pondered worriedly.

“Do you feel like eating anything?” He asked gently.

“I should, shouldn’t I?” Typhaine replied weakly. “I must do it… for the baby.”

“Indeed. What should I bring you?”

“Water,” she said. “So I can baptize the baby.”

_What?_

“It’s going to be a boy, you knew that?” She asked with a tired smile. “Jesus told me in a dream.”

“I… I see. How curious.”

He walked back to the restaurant, texting quickly as he went.

[Ryoji] Typhaine isn’t doing good at all.

[Ryoji] If it hadn’t been for the fact that she was already sick, I’d say she has contracted the Furantur.

[Rebecca] What’s going on?

[Ryoji] She’s saying nonsensical things.

[Ryoji] She just told me she had been talking with Jesus in a dream!

[Robert] not to be rude or whatev

[Robert] but aint typh always like that?

[Ryoji] It’s different this time.

[Gwenn] that’s worrying. u think starvation is making her hallucinate?

[Rebecca] But it’s not been that long…

[Ryoji] Whatever the cause I have to help her. Please be patient, those who haven’t had their breakfast yet.

[Florian] What about Magalie and Jordana? Can’t they help you?

[Ryoji] Magalie hasn’t come out of her room. Jordana might.

He pocketed his monopad, and almost tripped on Hope as he entered the restaurant.

“Sorry!” he said as the cat hissed at him angrily. “Please don’t be mad!”

“Where have you been?” Jordana asked.

“Typhaine’s room. She’s not doing okay _at all_. And she needs to eat. I think it might be time to try out some of your ideas.”

“I see,” she said with a thoughtful nod. “I’ll look in the torture room for something that can help with digestion. In the meantime, could you make some food for her? Something that can easily be chewed, like mashed potatoes. Make a lot of it, in case we need stocks.”

“Okay,” Ryoji said, glad to have some easy orders to follow.

 _Purée_ wasn’t very hard to make, thankfully. All he had to do was heat up a mixture of milk and water, then add the magic yellow powder inside, and stir until it was ready. Science could be wonderful sometimes. Jordana came when he was done, filled a bowl with mashed potatoes, and mixed it with all the spices she could find. She then left the kitchen without a word. Ryoji filled up another bowl and climbed up the stairs.

“Hi Gwenn,” he said as he came in. “I brought you something to eat.”

“Mashed potatoes?” Gwenn asked in surprise, upon seeing the contents of the bowl.

“Yes, I made some for Typhaine, and I figured you might want some too. I can always bring you something else though.”

“Oh no don’t bother. You have enough work as it is already. It’s fine.”

“Thanks a lot,” Ryoji said in relief. “You know, the others aren’t always that kind. Florian acts like he’s at the hotel sometimes.”

Gwenn winced.

“I hope he hasn’t been too rude with you. You have to understand: his family is super rich, he grew up with servants who did everything he asked for without complaining. So now he tends to think the world has to bend to his will. I’ve tried to teach him to be less snob around you guys, I promise he’s making efforts.”

“I’m not mad at him, you know. I just thought it was a little funny. Though...”

“Yes?”

“I thought _you_ came from a rich family too, Gwenn. But it doesn’t seem so hard for you to adapt yourself, does it? What’s the difference?”

Gwenn smirked.

“My situation is different. I’ve always been the black sheep of my family. Rebellious little shit that won’t go to the expensive engineering school, but chooses some common college instead. Queer kid that goes to protests and associative meetings, and the kind of places that would make his bourgeois parents faint if they knew about it. My folks hated it of course, and when they eventually got tired of my bratty attitude, they cut my funds a little. Which means that for three-something years, I’ve lived like a completely ordinary college student – something that Florian would never dream off.”

“But I thought Florian rebelled against his family too?”

“Florian _thinks_ he did, yeah,” Gwenn replied with a chuckle. “But it takes more than spending some time in your garden instead of your absurdly large bedroom to get to know the world. You see, Florian hates his family for personal reasons, while I hate them for political ones: that’s the main difference.”

“I see,” Ryoji said thoughtfully. “But then… how did you end up here, at the GTU? That sounds like the kind of lifestyle your family would want for you, but not necessarily what _you_ were going for.”

“I don’t remember if I told you before, but my talent is fake,” Gwenn said neutrally.

Ryoji nodded. News traveled fast, in such a small space.

“My parents bought me a place in this school,” they continued. “Apparently it’s a rather common procedure: each year this school welcomes some rich kid with a fake talent, sometimes even more than one.”

“Each year?” Ryoji repeated in shock. “I had no idea.”

“I thought you were one of them at first,” Gwenn confessed. “Ultimate hugger, it sounded a lot like one of those fake talents.”

“I swear it’s not fake,” Ryoji said meekly. “I was as surprised as you when I received my acceptance letter, but I never paid to be in this school.”

“Don’t worry, I believe you. I know you’re not a liar. Anyway, my family bought me a place here, I think because they wanted to ‘save’ me,” Gwenn said with disgust. “It was one easy way to make me fall back in line, and save the family’s honor.”

“So why did you accept?”

“I know I shouldn’t have, but… it’s the fucking GTU, you know? I saw myself becoming a celebrity, with a life that I could dedicate to my passions. I didn’t have the courage to say no.”

They let out a heartless chuckle.

“If I had known what was going to happen to me… that’s some heavy karma life threw at me here.”

Ryoji didn’t know what to say. He was glad he had gotten to know Gwenn a little better, but also sad to be reminded of his situation.

“Well, at least you’re not dead,” he said, trying to remain positive. “And not sick either.”

“But for how long?”

Ryoji had no answer to that. He mumbled an excuse and left: he needed to make breakfast for poor Rebecca, who still hadn’t had anything to eat. Her request had been quite vague: she said “something with a lot of proteins.”

“What has a lot of proteins?” Ryoji asked out loud, once he found himself alone in his kitchen.

“Eggs and meat, I think. Maybe fish too, though I’m not sure.”

“Really? If I had known, I would have kept some omelet for her.”

Ryoji scratched his head, then opened the fridge. There wasn’t much in terms of meat.

“Do you know how to make bacon?” He asked Monoblade.

“I can google it.”

“I’ll do that, then.”

As it turned out, bacon wasn’t so hard to make either. Ryoji burned his arms with oil a few times, but apart from that, he managed to fill a plate without any disasters. He tasted a slice of bacon, and was surprised to find out how good it tasted.

“I’m definitely going to make more of this,” he said appreciatively.

“Cool, cool. I’m adding it to the shopping list.”

As he carried the plate through the parking lot, he met Jordana, who was on her way back to the restaurant.

“How did it go with Typhaine?” He asked anxiously.

“Much better than I expected. I was able to make her eat the whole bowl, and she hasn’t thrown up yet. Maybe it’s just the calm before the storm, but we may be able to keep her alive just for a little longer.”

“Okay, that’s good. Thank you.”

“Come back quick to make _my_ breakfast,” Jordana commanded. “I’m starting to grow impatient.”

“O-okay.”

Ryoji was sweating when he finally reached the 3rd floor. Rebecca was in the factory, using the assembly lines as a makeshift treadmill.

“Oh hi Ryo,” she said as he came in. “Is that for me?”

“Indeed. I hope it’s good enough?”

“Of course it is! So tell me, how is everyone?”

“Considering the circumstances, much better than I expected. Jordana even managed to make Typhaine eat!”

“Oh, that’s wonderful! But what about you? My poor Ryoji, you look exhausted.”

“I’ve been running around a lot, that’s for sure. But you know, it’s not so bad! Keeping me busy all day like that is probably the best way to fight my virus. I have so many things to keep track of that I sometimes even forget how hungry I am!”

“Don’t overdo it still, okay? Have Magalie and Jordana help you if they can.”

“Jordana is already helping me. As for Magalie… huh, I haven’t seen her in a while. I hope she’s okay.”

He left the room and went back to the restaurant. Jordana requested soup specifically.

“Why soup?” He asked, confused.

“You really want to know?”

“Uh...”

“I feel like my current condition will make it hard to _excrete_ solid things, very soon. Which is why I’d rather have a fully drinkable diet, if you don’t mind naturally.”

Ryoji frowned intensely, seemingly as he tried to understand what she meant. When it hit, he suddenly blushed, and nodded vigorously. He asked Typhaine to send him instructions on her monopad, which she did with a lot of patience. However, making soup was much harder than anything Ryoji had tried to cook since morning, and it was almost noon by the time he was finally done. It was with a guilty face that he brought Jordana her bowl, before fleeing.

“Don’t you want to eat with me?” Jordana called as he left.

“I already had some, and besides, I have to see if Magalie is okay.”

When he entered room 102, Magalie was sitting on her bed, back against the door. Ryoji wasn’t sure, but it looked like she was writing something down on a sheet of paper.

“Hi,” he said timidly. “I came to check if everything was okay?”

“Leave me alone,” she said coldly.

“Uh… huh?”

“Leave me alone,” she repeated, a little more firmly. “It’s only three words, it shouldn’t be so hard to understand, even for you, should it? Or do you want me to draw a picture?”

“Okay I’m sorry,” he said hastily, before retreating.

He closed the door as discreetly as he could, breathing a little hard. What on earth was going on here? He didn’t remember doing anything that could have offended Magalie recently. But maybe he had, and hadn’t even realized?

His monopad was buzzing constantly. The others were still talking on the group chat: asking how the situation was going, how everyone was doing, when lunch would be ready, etc. He suddenly felt an overwhelming wave of exhaustion, tinted with sadness. For a brief moment, he realized how exhausted he was: not just physically, but mentally. He realized how tired he was of being locked between these walls, how tired he was of seeing his friends dying, of having to constantly doubt everyone around him, of having to search for secrets. Suddenly he missed Lisa. He missed her confidence and her energy, he missed her protection, he missed her smile. His steps led him to the graveyard: he fell on his knees in front of her tombstone, and wept.

“I wish you were still here,” he said out loud, wiping his eyes. “I don’t know what to do without you. I’ve been trying to protect others, but I can’t even protect myself. They all put their faith in me, but do I deserve it? You would have done so much better in my place. You were _actually_ strong, I’m just some fat boy who can’t even spend a day without crying.”

He sniffled.

“So why did I survive, and why did you die? How is that fair? What do I have that you didn’t?”

The stone sculpture didn’t reply. A butterfly rested on its head: its wings were an ugly brown color. It flew away when Ryoji reached out with his left hand.

“Ryoji.”

He turned around. Jordana had wheeled herself inside the graveyard. He hadn’t even heard her coming in. Her hair was down, she was wearing plain and ordinary clothes, and had no makeup on her face. It was the first time Ryoji saw her in such a state of neglect. He wasn’t sure whether or not it suited her.

“My mother was the ultimate doctor,” she said quietly. “Her name was Marcela Alfaro. You might have heard of her in history class. She was a brilliant scientist, a kind soul, and naturally a wonderful doctor. Some of the most recent advancements in the medical field happened thanks to her.”

Jordana closed her eyes.

“But when we were both put into a killing game when I was young, she died, and I lived. I always wondered why. I might be the ultimate singer, but what is that worth, compared to the ability to save countless lives? To find cures, vaccines, treatments for people? Especially in this world we live in, drowned in a pandemic. As the virus claims lives all around the globe, I constantly asked myself: why am I the one who survived, and not her? But there is no answer to this question. Death doesn’t happen logically. People die, sometimes too soon, and there’s nothing we can do about it.”

She opened her eyes again, and wheeled herself a little closer.

“Don’t blame yourself for existing, Ryoji. You’re thinking backwards. No murder is right, it wouldn’t have been _better_ if Lucien had killed you instead of her. It would have simply been another tragedy.”

Ryoji sniffled.

“Also, for what it’s worth, I think you’re doing great, considering the circumstances,” Jordana added with a little smile. “Give yourself a little credit, won’t you?”

He opened his mouth in surprise. He was still crying, but suddenly he didn’t mind anymore. The tears on his face felt good, like they could clean him somehow.

“That’s the second time you’ve made me cry today,” he said with an attempt at smiling. “I don’t regret either.”

“My bad,” she replied with a chuckle. “Now go get some rest. Eat something, have a nap, read a book, I don’t care. Do something selfish. Me and Typhaine will take care of lunch.”

“Will you be okay?”

“Stop worrying about us so much. It’s just lunch, for hell’s sake.”

He nodded, and they left the graveyard together. He decided to pay Bob a visit, because he wanted to be with him for a little bit. Bob got worried when he saw the tears on Ryoji’s face, but Ryoji told him it was all right.

“I’m okay really, I just need a moment. And I wanted to spend that moment with you. Is it okay if I rest here for a bit?”

“Course it is. Why the heck would it not be?”

But Bob was wasting his breath. Ryoji was already asleep.


	51. A River, a Restaurant, and a Threat

Ryoji woke up several hours later. Bob was munching on some biscuits.

“Yo.”

“Yo,” Ryoji replied, yawning. “What time is it?”

“Sumethin’ like 5pm, I reckon.”

“I slept for five hours?” Ryoji shouted in astonishment.

“Looks like it. Yer sleep schedule is seriously fucked, silly bear. Ya sleep at night?”

“I try to, but I always end up dreaming of Lisa.”

“Ah, nightmares. Of course. I shoulda known.”

“Do you have nightmares, Bob?”

“Only one.”

Ryoji blinked, and sat himself, resting his back against the wall. This was not the answer he had expected.

“Only one? What does that mean?”

“Well… y’see, I get plenty o’ weird dreams and stuff, but when it comes to nightmares, it’s always the same. Or variants on the same subject anyway. It’s connected to a memory o’ mine, somethin’ that happened a long time ago.”

“Well… what is it? Am I allowed to ask?”

Bob moved his hand to his head, as if wanting to adjust his beanie – but he wasn’t wearing it, because he had tossed it in Ryoji’s room the day before. He seemed a little bothered by that.

“Course ya are. It’s just that it’s a pretty nasty memory.”

“I assume you have lots of those.”

“Oh, I do, but this one is especially bad.”

“When was it?”

“Not sure, I was probably thirteen or fourteen at the time. All I remember is that I had recently got kicked outta school. ‘twas my first experience with the hobo life, and _hot damn_ I wasn’t prepared. Couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, getting kicked outta stores when I tried to steal food, not knowing where the public bathrooms were, ‘twas a fuckin’ nightmare. At some point I was wanderin’ near la Seine, saw some dude sittin’ on a bench. I came to him, askin’ if he could spare some cash, but the dude never replied. I walked around the bench, and realized he was asleep.”

“Asleep? Was he a homeless person too?”

“Maybe. I dun’t remember if he smelled. _I_ sure did, so it was kinda numbing me.”

Bob rubbed his nose with one finger.

“I started to search his pockets,” he continued. “I know, stealing is bad, but I was really starvin’, and beggin’ hadn’t worked great for me so far. First I was really shy about it, but then when I realized he wasn’t wakin’ anytime soon, I stopped tryin’ to be discreet. I opened his vest and looked inside his breast pockets. No one cared, perhaps the passersby thought I was his kid or whatev’. I eventually found his purse, there wasn’t much in there, maybe fifty euros. To me it was a lot. I dunno if I had ever seen so much money in one place, truth be told. I was _livid_. So obviously I took the money, but tha’s when I noticed the guy had his eyes open.”

“Open?” Ryoji repeated in shock.

“Yeah. Turns out he wasn’t really sleepin’, he jus’… didn’t care ‘bout me stealin’ his stuff? Or he was too drunk to move, I seen some folks like that. Dude smiled at me, like it’s the happiest day of his life. The words he said to me that day, they’re stuck in my brain, and I’m afraid they won’t ever come out. Even to his day I can still hear his voice super clearly.”

“What did he say?”

“He said: ‘Thank you so much. I think this is exactly what I needed’. Course I had no clue what the hell that meant. To this day, I’m still not sure. I began to apologize, but he forced me to keep the money. He even took off his beanie and put it on my head.”

“So the beanie you used to always wear...” Ryoji began.

“It belonged to that guy, yup. I never lost it until Ferdie’s execution. I was hella pissed when I realized I couldn’t get it back. But anyway, back to my story… actually, it’s almost over. Guy gets up from the bench, walks toward the river, and jumps. People begin to yell all around me. I freeze in fear, I dun’t realize what’s happenin’. I tell myself stupid things, like ‘winter isn’t a good season for swimmin’, or ‘he shoulda removed his clothes’. I wait for him to come out, but of course he never does. I ended up runnin’ away, I think.”

Ryoji’s eyes were watering.

“He died?”

“Yeah, he did. Next day, I stole all the newspapers I could, until I could find the one _faits divers_ section where they talk about it. They had a picture of’im and everythin’, with the fuckin’ beanie of course. He was called Maxime somethin’, forgot his last name. It took a while to hit, but I eventually realized he might’ve not committed suicide if it hadn’t been for me.”

“Bob-”

“Nah, dun’t say it ain’t my fault. I know this guy had his whole story that led him to where he was, and I know that I was just a kid who was tryin’ to eat. For all I know, he had just murdered his whole family or sum’ shit, wouldn’t even surprise me all that much. But it’s true that I played a role in his death. It’s sumethin’ I have to accept.”

“But Bob...”

“To be fair I dunno why it affected me so much,” Bob continued calmly. “I saw lots of folks dyin’ in my short life, and it usually got me pissed, not… uh, how do I describe this feeling? Emptiness is the best I can come up with.”

“We all get some of that, I suppose.”

“Anyway, tha’s my sad story,” Bob said with a giggle. “I’m real pissed I lost that beanie.”

“Why were you still wearing it?” Ryoji asked quietly.

“So that some memory of that dude could remain in this world. Even if it’s just me who remembers.”

“But now I do too,” Ryoji said softly. “You don’t have to keep wearing a beanie for him to exist, because he’s in my memory as well.”

“Maybe it’s a good thing,” Bob said thoughtfully. “Perhaps I should try to move on, instead o’ clingin’ to that one memory. I’ll be real with ya, ‘twas a real pain wearin’ that thing in summer all the time, and it wasn’t even that pretty.”

“And I wouldn’t want you to get sunstroke,” Ryoji added with a faint smile.

He got up on his feet and stretched.

“Thank you for trusting me with that story.”

“It ain’t no big deal. I was glad I could talk things out with ya.”

“I guess I’d better get back to my duties. Jordana and Typhaine can’t handle everything on their own.”

His belly rumbled.

“Besides, I’m hungry.”

“Go then, I won’t stop ya,” Bob replied with a smile. “Keep making us proud.”

Ryoji left the room, blushing, and locked the door behind himself. Meanwhile, Bob lied down on the mattress, hands behind his head. He contemplated the ceiling thoughtfully.

 _Why did I lie?_ He asked himself.

It was true that until recently, he had only ever had one type of nightmare, connected to the story he had just told. But that was no longer true. He was visited by all sorts of nightmares, sometimes during the day even. The problem was, he didn’t know what to make of them. The nightmares told him to keep silent, or bad things would happen. And he didn’t want bad things to happen.

“Thank you for guiding me,” he said with a smile, to no one.

_You’re welcome_ _._ _Keep listening_ _to us, and everything will be fine._

**

Ryoji went back to the kitchen, where he found Typhaine sitting alone at a table, having a staring contest with a plate of lasagna.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hey,” she replied.

“Where did Jordana go?”

“Her pain was too strong, so she went to relax in her room. It’s just you and me now.”

“I see. What about Magalie? Have you talked to her?”

Typhaine pouted.

“I have, and she was very rude to me. She called me a nuisance, and told me to leave. It’s weird though, I don’t remember doing anything to anger her.”

Ryoji’s eyes shot open wide.

“Seriously? The same thing happened to me! I came to check on Magalie earlier, and she kicked me out!”

“Really?”

Typhaine looked very surprised.

“I thought it was something personal,” Ryoji continued. “Like I had offended her in some way. Has she been like that with everyone?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t asked the others. It was so strange too! Like she...”

Typhaine trailed off. Then she suddenly covered her mouth with both hands.

“Oh no! You don’t think that she got the Furantur?”

“The virus? You think it’s a possibility?”

“The file says that people who have been infected start acting strangely! This definitely counts as strange! We haven’t done anything wrong after all.”

“I… I guess,” Ryoji said uncertainly. “What should we do?”

“We have to lock her up, obviously!” Typhaine said energetically. “If we don’t this situation will get out of hand!”

Ryoji seemed to hesitate.

“Hm... We’re not sure she’s infected though, are we? Maybe we should just check up on her first. See if we can talk things out?”

Typhaine cast him a doubtful glare, but agreed anyway. She ran out of the room, and Ryoji followed her hesitantly, grabbing a fruit before he left.

“I really hope she hasn’t contracted the Furantur,” he said once they were both outside. “Monoblade told us that having two viruses at once could have some catastrophic consequences, remember? If Magalie is indeed infected, then she will probably...”

He didn’t dare finish his sentence. He knew that Typhaine had understood him. They both accelerated slightly.

It was with apprehension that Typhaine opened the door to Magalie’s room. The woman was resting on her bed, repeatedly throwing a rubber ball in the air, each time catching it with her right hand. She was wearing blue pajamas that looked comfortable, but the surgical mask, scarf and beanie were gone. Her hair covered the pillow, making her face look like a miniature sun. The window was open wide, despite the late afternoon chill.

“Magalie, we need to talk with you,” Typhaine began. “Because either you’re very sick or you’re very mean, but whichever is true, it’s a problem that requires our attention!”

“Wow, that was such a long sentence,” Magalie replied in a bored tone. “I thought all you were good at was yelling nonsense, but clearly I underestimated you.”

“Wha-”

“It amazes me how the people in this place never learn _anything,”_ Magalie continued in the same flat tone. “Look at Florian for example. I never met such a simple fool before. He makes the same mistakes over and over, and yet he remains convinced of his own intelligence. It makes one wonder: where does he even find room in his brain for so much stupidity?”

There was a silence, because neither Ryoji nor Typhaine knew what they could answer to that. Magalie didn’t seem to care. She kept talking to herself, and her gaze remained fixed on the ceiling.

“In a way, you’re like that too, Typhaine. You’re a very simple fool. _So_ easy to manipulate. Tell me, do you ever consider doubting the things you’re told? Or does it systematically go unfiltered in the ‘truth’ category?”

“I don’t understand what you’re saying,” Typhaine said.

“Of course you wouldn’t. Let me make if clear for you.”

Magalie got up from her bed, and threw the ball in her eye. Typhaine recoiled violently, screaming in pain and covering her face. Ryoji squeaked in surprise, instinctly grabbing Typhaine’s shoulders and dragging her backwards.

“I, don’t, want, you, in, my, room,” Magalie stated aggressively, putting an emphasis on each word. “Your very presence makes me want to throw up. The less I see your face, the happier I feel. Is it starting to sink in?”

“Jesus help me!” Typhaine whined. “She’s lost her mind!”

“Get out!” Magalie yelled, grabbing the door handle, and attempting to slam it shut.

Ryoji’s foot got in the way.

“Magalie please, listen to me,” he pleaded. “You’re suffering from hallucinations, and that virus is attacking your brain. But we’re not your enemies! Try to remember who we are, and what we’re doing here, and-”

He interrupted himself, because Magalie was laughing. It didn’t comfort him in the slightest. It was a cold and cruel laugh, the kind of sadistic laugh that came from taking pleasure in someone’s ignorance. He opened the door again.

“You’re so stupid Ryoji oh my god,” she said as she wiped her eyes. “Is that what you were both thinking? ‘Oh wow, Magalie has been so mean to me, she must have the Furantur!’ You’d like to believe that, wouldn’t you?”

“You’re saying that you’re not sick?”

“Of course not. I mean, I still have the other virus, the one that’s given me a fever and stuff. But the Furantur? Try again.”

“But then why?” Typhaine asked angrily. “Why are you being so mean to us?”

“Why not?”

“Eh? That’s not an answer!”

“So what? I don’t _want_ to treat you nicely. If I think you don’t deserve an answer, then you won’t get one. Fuck off!” She added with a middle-finger.

“Magalie, don’t do this to yourself,” Ryoji begged. “You know this is hurting yourself more than it’s hurting us.”

“Now that’s a good joke there,” she replied with a snort. “I gotta grant you this one Ryoji, you might be stupid and useless, but at least you’re entertaining. You think this is hurting me more than you? You being Ryoji, the hypersensitive dude who can’t see a cat eating a mouse without weeping like a little baby? I don’t need psychic powers to know this conversation is going to make you cry eventually.”

Ryoji flinched, as if she had punched him in the face. She wasn’t wrong: each of her words had been like a needle planted in his skin, and he knew that he was going to cry a lot later. But Typhaine’s presence by his side comforted him, and he found the courage to speak.

“You forget that I can still feel your emotions,” he reminded her. “You might be good at pretending, but you’re not enjoying this anymore than we are. I can tell that you’re not feeling any joy from hurting us both. Jordana used to be like this, too: she forced herself to pin us against each other, but it was destroying her. In a way, Monoblade is like that too, trying to convince himself that he enjoys the killing game he created, so he doesn’t feel crushed by his own guilt. But it’s all just a lie.”

Magalie’s amused expression disappeared. Her brow furrowed, she flared her nose and folded her arms.

“Get out. Now.”

“If you need us, we will-”

She slammed the door again, and this time Ryoji wasn’t quick enough to stop her. He stood in the hallway for a little moment, staring at the door stupidly. He realized that he was still holding Typhaine’s shoulder, and forced himself to get away from her.

“I think I’m going to cry a little,” he warned. “Like very soon.”

“You always do.”

“It hurts every time though,” he said, already feeling the sobs creeping in.

He sat on the floor and buried his face in his hands. Typhaine stood above him, silent and blank.

“I think you were cool,” she eventually said. “The way you used your empathy on her, that was a smart move.”

Ryoji nodded to show he had heard her.

“I guess we’ll have to warn the others. Maybe she doesn’t have the Furantur, but they need to know how she treated us.”

Another nod.

“These couple days have been rough on you, haven’t they?”

Nod.

“I’ll make you some food.”

And she left. Ryoji got up five minutes later, and went straight to the water room. As he took off his clothes and stood under the tap, he had the irrational desire of taking a shower with Bob. Perhaps it was because Magalie had looked down on him that he felt the need to be loved, to be _desired_. He felt like it would boost his self-esteem – but obviously, that wasn’t going to happen.

When he came back to the restaurant, Typhaine was in the middle of making a huge couscous for everyone, along with some pastries for dessert. He watched her work, helping her every now and then, when she had an easy task that she could afford to let him take care of.

“Sometimes I forget you’re a renowned chef,” he admitted.

“It’s not weird, considering I barely showed you my abilities since I arrived.”

“Why is that?”

“I was a bit worried you’d take me for a show-off. Honestly, I never felt like I was all that good.”

“Are you kidding? Your soups are the best thing in the world! I mean, I was never that good at describing tastes, but I’m always surprised by… how much you put in, you know? Like… you always expect soup to be kinda bland, sortof. But with you, it’s like an explosion of tastes, and they all go so well together! And if even Florian can’t frown at it, you know you’ve got some real quality food, let me tell you.”

He expected to make her smile, but Typhaine’s expression remained neutral, as if she somehow didn’t really care for the compliment.

“What’s the matter?” He asked worriedly.

“Oh, it’s not… it’s very kind of you, but I… the truth is, I don’t really like my talent all that much. Cooking, making soup… it’s not really something I enjoy anymore.”

“Seriously?” Ryoji asked in shock. “Is it possible to get that good at something you don’t like?”

“Probably not,” Typhaine reflected with a frown. “It requires hard work, patience and determination, and I _used_ to have all of that. But it’s over now.”

He had never heard her speak so seriously before. Her voice carried a strange burden, which reminded him of Suzie. He realized that the comparison wasn’t a good omen.

“You want to talk about it a little?”

“I don’t know. Is this what friends do together? They talk about their pasts?”

“Uh… they can. Friends can do whatever they like, but they tend to appreciate knowing each other more.”

“I see. Sorry for asking such a stupid question. It’s just that, for a very long time in my life, I didn’t have any friends. So I don’t really know how friendship works all that well.”

Ryoji didn’t know what to answer to that. Thankfully, Typhaine didn’t seem to expect an answer. She simply kept talking.

“When I was little, it was just me, my parents and my brother. We lived in a little apartment in Bordeaux, right above my mom’s restaurant. I was sheltered for many years, and almost never went outside. I was home-schooled, too. Most of my days were spent practicing cooking. My parents wanted me to become a great chef, so it was important that I start practicing young. But I didn’t really understand why it was so important that I become good, so they made up some fantasy world for me. Kinda like Christmas and Santa Claus, see? But more complex, and always present. They said I had to cook for the little fairies outside, because only I had the magic to save them. When I got tired of fairies, it was elves, and then dragons, and anything that would keep me entertained basically.”

“And you believed them?”

“I believed them for a very long time, yes. I think it was only when I was fourteen that I started having doubts.”

“Wow. But… why were they doing that? I mean, it’s one thing to want the best for your kids, but another to almost shelter them from the world completely.”

“I don’t really know. I used to think I had been adopted illegally, or born illegally, but it could be anything. Both my parents died in a car crash when I was sixteen, and I’ve lived with my uncle since then, so I don’t think I’ll ever know.”

She rubbed her eyes.

“That’s why I’m so ignorant,” she explained wearily. “That’s why I’m so naïve, it’s because there’s so much about the world that I never got to see. But it’s… it’s not my fault, you know?”

“Of course not. What could you have done?”

“But when Magalie called me an idiot earlier, it really hurt me,” she admitted. “I wanted to tell her my story, but… but what’s the point? She wouldn’t even listen to me.”

She slammed a knife on her cutting board with a surprising amount of violence.

“So there you go. That’s my story. I’m stupid because my parents were jerks, and my biggest talent is based on lies. Wonderful, isn’t it?”

Ryoji didn’t know what to answer to that.

“We’ll talk to the others about this,” he decided. “They have to know how Magalie mistreated you. I’ll bring them their food and tell each of them. It will be more efficient than using the monopads. Works for you?”

Typhaine nodded. When they were done with the cooking, Ryoji washed his hands again (he had done it so much that his skin was beginning to burn), changed his mask, and brought the first food tray up the stairs.

“Hi Gwenn,” he said as he came in. “How are you doing?”

“I’ve been making bracelets all afternoon,” Gwenn replied. “Typhaine taught me how earlier, and Monoblade bought me some colorful strings. It helps pass the time. How about you?”

Ryoji placed the tray on the table in the kitchen, then came back inside the bedroom.

“Well… some things happened,” he explained uneasily. “I need your advice.”

He told Gwenn about the conversation Typhaine and he had just had with Magalie, with as many details as possible.

“And in the end, she slammed the door, and we had to leave,” he concluded.

“That uh… okay, that’s not good. Are you sure it’s not just the Furantur?”

“I really don’t think it is. She really seemed aware of what she was saying, she had… well, control over her speech.”

“Yeah, but it’s called the mirror virus for a reason,” Gwenn objected. “It says on the file that people who are infected seem like they have their personalities reversed! Doesn’t it sound just like that description?”

“Uh...”

Monoblade fell in the room with a loud metallic noise.

“Allow me to… clear up a misunderstanding?” He asked, raising his hand like a schoolboy.

“Hi Monoblade,” Ryoji said stupidly.

“Nice landing there,” Gwenn added sarcastically. “Is it me, or are you getting worse at handling that robot puppet?”

“It’s not you,” Monoblade admitted. “My joints are so cold, it’s hard to press the buttons properly.”

“Cold?” Ryoji repeated. “Where are you?”

“Some cold place,” Monoblade replied vaguely. “So anyway. About the Furantur. I’d like to clear up a few things for you kiddos.”

“Sure, make yourself at home,” Gwenn said with a wince. “What is it we need to know?”

“I feel like you might be overestimating the effect the Furantur can have on someone. It’s a rather nasty thing, for sure, but not _that_ nasty. It only does hallucinations, and prevents you from controlling your emotions. Memory loss happens sometimes, but it’s rare. It doesn’t really have a will of its own, and it can’t turn you into a super big lie machine.”

“Get to the point, will you?”

“Magalie is obviously not infected, that’s the point. Basically someone who’s infected will attack anyone who’s looking at them weird, because they’ll see a big monster or something. Insults eventually do happen, but it’s usually out of fear rather than anger.”

“Hm, I see,” Ryoji said slowly. “Thanks for the info.”

“No prob, sonny.”

Monoblade got up awkwardly, moved around in circles for a bit, ran into a wall, then disappeared through a secret exit.

“Well that was something,” Gwenn commented. “You think we can trust what he says though?”

“I don’t know if we have a choice there.”

“But like, if Magalie isn’t infected… what the hell is wrong with her?”

“No idea. Something must have happened to her, but I don’t understand what it could be.”

Ryoji bit into an apple that he had brought with him. The more he thought about it, the least it made sense. Magalie had completely changed overnight, but what could have possibly happened during that night, to infuriate her so?

He left Gwenn and continued his food delivery, asking each of his friends if they knew something about Magalie’s sudden change in behavior. Florian suggested she might have been blackmailed by the kidnappers, and forced to act against her friends. Bob thought she might have been the victim of a secondary motive, made to target her specifically. Rebecca on the other hand, believed she was simply upset about Ferdinand’s death, and was lashing out on the others as a result.

 _All these theories revolve around the same topics,_ Ryoji noted. _And each could be true. But how do we get her to open up?_

He found himself alone in the restaurant, finishing the couscous all by himself. His stomach was hurting again, and he no longer cared. He felt like the day had lasted one thousand years, and yet he wasn’t tired enough to sleep yet.

“Hey there,” Jordana said in a tired voice as Typhaine wheeled her into the room.

“Hi,” Ryoji replied. “I was worried about you. How are you doing?”

“Not great, I’ll admit. Can’t move my arms.”

“You can’t move you arms?” He repeated in horror.

“You heard me, yeah. Also everything hurts, but you could have guessed that.”

Ryoji remained silent. He would have loved to say that the news had made him lost his appetite, but it wasn’t even true.

“Monoblade paid us a visit,” Typhaine added.

“Oh right, he did,” Jordana confirmed with a wince. “He said I was basically screwed. Even if a murder were to happen right now, I could never fully be cured. It’s too late. I’ll never recover the use of my legs.”

The silence that followed was heavy. Ryoji held his breath without even realizing.

“He said that?” He asked stupidly.

“I still can’t really believe it,” she admitted. “It doesn’t exactly sound real to me. To think that even if I survive, I’ll have to be in this wheelchair forever. It’s blowing my mind.”

“Be courageous...” Typhaine whispered.

“Yeah, I suppose I could.”

“What about you Typhaine?” Ryoji forced himself to ask. “You managed to eat something?”

“A little bit, yeah. The digestion pills make me nauseous, but at least I can eat things without throwing up now.”

“That’s probably the only good news we’ll get in a while,” Jordana realized. “I’m fine with ending the day on that.”

They remained together for a little bit. They tried to discuss important things (like the death game, how to escape, what to do about Magalie), but found out they were all too tired to come up with anything even remotely intelligent. So instead they passed the time by playing riddles for a while, before parting ways. Typhaine wheeled Jordana out of the room, and Ryoji remained alone at his table, lost in thoughts. Hope jumped on his lap, rubbing his head against the man’s elbow and purring softly. Ryoji smiled.

“Aw, you’re such a cute kitty, aren’t you? You’re a lovely kitty, yes you are.”

Hope was a very skinny stray cat, and unbelievably small for an adult. One of his ears had been torn by something, Ryoji wasn’t sure what. He reminded Ryoji of Bob: short (though Bob wasn’t very short, anyone _seemed_ short to Ryoji), skinny, and hurt by the years. But still cute, and loving of affection. Hope was also a cat that actually responded when he was called by his name, which had made Typhaine theorize that he was part-dog, somehow.

“You want to sleep with me little boy?” Ryoji asked as he lifted she small animal.

“Meow?” Hope replied.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

And so Ryoji walked toward his room, cradling the cat in his arms, having fit two apples in his pockets. The parking lot was cold and quiet, the garden making it look like a miniature forest. The clouds were blocking off the moon, so Ryoji couldn’t see much. He remembered that Florian had requested he water some of the plants, which he took the time to do before going to bed. But before he could enter his room, he had to face Magalie, who was blocking his path.

“Uh,” he began. “You’re here.”

“Not the person you expected to see?” She asked with a devious smile.

“I didn’t expect anyone.”

“Well too bad. I’m here.”

“What do you want? And why are you speaking like a cartoon villain?”

“I just came to deliver a warning. You know, because I want to make the game fair.”

“The game?”

With each of her words, he felt more and more confused.

“Pay attention, will you? This is important.”

Ryoji took a step back, and looked around himself, hoping that someone would come to save him. But most of his friends were still locked in their own space, and the remaining ones were already in their rooms.

“No one’s going to save you now,” Magalie added, echoing his thoughts. “So? Will you listen to me?”

“Magalie, you don’t have to do this,” Ryoji said hastily, sweating. “I’m sure that whatever’s troubling you, we can just discuss it rationally, and everything will be-”

“You’re going to die,” she whispered with satisfaction. “Because of me.”

“What? Is that… is that a threat?”

“You bet it is. Don’t you think you’ve survived too long? An ugly face like yours isn’t good for the ratings. I want to help the ones who run this show by removing the unlikable characters before the big finale, you get me? That unfortunately means you have to sink.”

“Sink?” He repeated in a hollow voice. “The show? I don’t understand anything you’re saying!”

“You don’t _need_ to understand. You see, you pissed me off quite a lot earlier, and I wanted to have my revenge on you, one way or another. And I have a feeling _someone_ isn’t going to sleep well tonight. But who could it possibly be? Oh I do wonder-”

Ryoji would have never expected what happened next. Hope suddenly jumped from his arms and attacked Magalie, paws in the air and claws out, all the while hissing with anger. Magalie screamed in shock and covered her face with her arms. She had the reflex to kick the cat before he could hurt her. Hope was sent flying and ran away, meowing like a wounded beast.

“What the fuck?” Magalie swore. _“Con de chat, va bouffer de la merde!”_

She pushed Ryoji aside and disappeared into her room. He sat against the floor, waiting for his body to stop shaking. He was very sweaty, and yet he felt cold. He deeply regretted being separated from Hope, but he didn’t dare move from his spot. What if Magalie followed him and stabbed him in the back when he wasn’t looking?

_Calm down, calm down. You’re panicking, but this is probably nothing. Magalie is just upset, she wouldn’t actually kill you._ _It’s Jordana all over again, but Jordana was all bark and no bite. You won’t get bit._

But he didn’t manage to calm himself.

“Aaah,” he blurted out in anguish. “I can’t stand this anymore!”

He got up on his feet. He knew he couldn’t spend the night alone in his room. It didn’t even have a lock! He needed someone by his side, someone who could protect him from danger.

“Bob,” he said out loud. “I need to see Bob.”

And thus he began to run. He left the eastern wing in a rush, dashed through the elevator room, and entered the other hallway. The key ring was shaking in his hands, and it took him forever to actually find the correct key to insert into the lock. It was with sweaty fingers that he finally pressed the handle and opened the door, with a sigh of relief.

But when he got inside the prison, he found it empty.

“Bob?” He asked in astonishment. “Bob, where are you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha, enjoy the cliffhanger, won't you?  
> Just a little warning for the people who've been following this work: I'm probably going to have to slow down a bit. My job is going to start soon, and I won't have my PC with me. Writing on my phone in my spare time is probably not going to be super efficient, so please be patient. Love you guys!


	52. Blight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a weird chapter, if I'm honest. I enjoyed writing it though, and I hope you enjoy reading it as well!

Ryoji opened his eyes, and groaned. He was hungry. It was the only thing he could think about, the will to shove as much food down his throat as possible. Hunger was probably what woke him up, truth be told. His stomach felt empty, his tongue was heavy with saliva, and he wondered if-

Wait.

Woke him up? What time was it? He didn't remember going to bed. In fact, even though he was lying down, the surface he was on didn't _feel_ like a bed. It was cold and hard, so it was probably the floor. His body hurt, especially the back of his head, which probably meant that he had been attacked at some point.

"Well, you really _are_ one lucky boy, aren't you?" said a very familiar voice. "Probably the toughest skull on the planet. Three times now, people've been trying to crack it open, but it just _won't happen,_ will it?"

"Huh?" Ryoji replied very eloquently.

"Huh indeed. I wouldn't have said it better myself."

There was the sound of something falling, then Monoblade's face suddenly appeared in Ryoji's vision, looking a little blurry. It was too close for comfort, Ryoji couldn’t focus his eyes on it. He tried move out of the way, but his arms didn't respond.

"You probably wonder why I’m here," Monoblade stated calmly.

 _Do I?_ Ryoji asked himself. He had a lot of questions for sure, but they concerned _himself_ rather than Monoblade. In fact, if he dared speak his mind, he might even suggest that he didn’t care all that much about whatever the robot was doing there. It was the truth, but Ryoji being sadly too polite to offend psychopaths (and too hurt to articulate words properly), he didn’t speak his mind. Instead, he said:

"Head hurts.”

"I assume it does, yes. It's no surprise, when you consider all the blood that's leaking out of it."

Blood? That was a new element. Somewhat concerning, probably.

"Been attacked?" He managed to articulate.

"Very much, yes. You should know who the perpetrator is, too – unless the hit messed up your head more badly than I thought."

Another tough question. In order to figure out who had attacked him, Ryoji needed to recall what he had been doing before the attack. But that all felt hazy somewhat, like a persistent fog that blocked his memories.

"I was..."

"You were on your way to see Bob," Monoblade politely reminded him.

"Bob," Ryoji repeated.

Of course. It all came back to him: the evening with Typhaine and Jordana, Magalie's threat, and his visit to the science lab.

"Bob... Bob, he's sick," he suddenly realized.

"Took you long enough."

"I have to help him!"

Ryoji tried to get up, but he instantly regretted it. His entire body hurt, his head was spinning, and he almost threw up right away.

"Easy there. You won't be helping anyone in that state."

"But Bob could get hurt," Ryoji pleaded desperately.

"Indeed. But you can't help him right now. Sucks to be you."

Ryoji grunted in frustration.

"Why are you here?"

"I'm here because my boss likes you, that's why. Normally I wouldn't be allowed to interfere in a situation like this, but he made an exception. All you have to do is give me a name. Any of your classmates will do: name one and I'll tell them that Bob has the Furantur, and maybe a clue or two so that they know where to look for him. I'll open the door for them if they're currently locked up too. So? Who will it be?"

Ryoji barely had to think.

"Rebecca," he said confidently.

She was the strongest, the fastest among them. If anyone could still save Bob, it was her.

"Rebecca it will be, then. You stay on the floor for now, fatty. My staff will come pick you up soon. You’ll be up for another trip to our hospital, but you should be getting used to it by now."

Ryoji watched the robot leave the room, frustrated and anxious. Why did it have to be like this? Why did he have to be disabled when his boyfriend needed him the most?

  
  


**

  
  


Everything was purple, like the inside of a wine bottle. Bob wasn't sure why. It hadn't always been this way. Some time ago, the walls had been white and clean, but some sort of _change_ had occurred. Now things weren't the same anymore. Everything was falling apart, the lights were dim and rare, the floor felt oddly damp and squishy, like the insides of a giant's stomach. There were liquids everywhere too: mostly red and brown, they dripped from the ceiling and made dirty puddles on the floor. The smells too, were rather odd. Bob would describe them as "soiled iron", or maybe "organic rust". Truth was, he had never smelled anything like it before.

The strangest part was the ghosts. Bob had no idea why he called them that, because they didn't look like ghosts at all. They were sentient beings, that was for sure, but hard to describe, since they didn't have a specific shape. They looked like spheres and bulbs, sometimes stuck together like grotesque clouds. They had eyes, but no mouths, and yet they could talk. They spoke very often, distracting Bob from the important things that were happening in his world. He was certain that the world wasn't supposed to look like that, but the ghosts told him not to worry.

 _You have been abducted_ , they would say. _Wait for the right moment, and make your escape._

At first, Bob had refused to listen to them. They were weird and gross, and he didn't like them at all. But they had been persistent, they had talked to him at length and eventually managed to persuade him. Sometimes they would even punish him when he didn't listen to their advice, using very loud and shrilly screams that would damage his ears.

"Why is the world like this?" Bob asked them one day.

 _It's not our fault,_ they would reply.

"I understand that, but why did everything change?"

No reply ever came, but maybe it was simply because the food delivery happened at that exact moment. The ghosts didn't like to talk during the food delivery.

Part of Bob knew he was hallucinating, and that he should warn the others about it. Each time when Ryoji came to deliver the food, he hesitated. The ghosts told him not to trust Ryoji, but it still felt wrong to lie to him. But he was afraid of how Ryoji would react if he told him the truth. He was afraid of being cast away and rejected, he thought the others would murder him if they found out he had the Furantur. Each passing hour as the world morphed around him, he felt a little more scared, and it was becoming harder and harder to conceal it.

"What should I do?" He asked the ghosts one evening. "I dun't wanna die. Is this place still safe?"

_It is not. You must escape._

"Escape? How?"

_You must find a way._

Bob nodded to himself. He sat down on the floor, and began to think of a plan. He didn't have any object in his room solid enough to break a window with, so he had to wait for the next food delivery. Maybe he could lure Ryoji in, then steal his keys and lock him in. That way he'd be free to run. Satisfied, Bob went to sleep.

But sleep never came that night. The ghosts were whispering to each other, quite loudly. No matter how much he tried to ignore them, he couldn't.

_Danger. Danger. Danger._

He moved his pillow over his head, bit it didn't help him at all.

_Danger. Danger. Danger. Watch out._

He got up angrily.

"What is it? Can't y'all shut yer trap for once?"

_It's not our fault. Look out._

Bob did as he was told, and looked through the window. A cold shiver shook his body. There was a monster in the hallway. It looked like a giant bug, with disgusting mandibles, horns, and venom leaking from its mouth. It banged against the door with what seemed like barely contained rage, yelling gibberish as it went. The ghosts were yelling in fear now.

 _Run. Run. Run. Run. Run. Run_.

But Bob had nowhere to run. He was locked into a tiny room, he had no choice but to fight the monster. He grabbed the nearest object, which happened to be a bowl from his last food delivery that Ryoji must have forgotten. Sticking his body against a wall, he waited, holding his breath. He was shaking.

The monster finally managed to open the door. It stood at the entrance for a moment, apparently confused. Bob, who was concealed behind the door, waited for the beast to move. When it finally did, he smashed the bowl against its ugly head, before fleeing the room promptly.

_Victory! Victory! Victory!_

The ghosts expressed their joy loudly and cheerfully, like people at a party, but Bob was horrified. The world he knew was no more. The walls were crumbling, the hallway infested with parasites. Plants grew everywhere, horrible flowers with eyes and mouths, that glared at him with gluttony. The ghosts were here too, their eyes followed him as he moved, as if they were judging something.

_Run. Fight. Kill._

"Whut? Where the _fuck_ am I s'posed to go?"

_Down. Follow the river._

Bob had no idea what this meant. He obeyed simply because he was too scared of the monster to stay in place. He ran from the hallway, pushing the door open with his shoulder. There was a huge tree in the next room, thick and ancient. Its slender branches looked like arms, Bob was afraid they would attempt to snatch him, maybe choke him or pierce his eyeballs. Ghosts were everywhere: stuck to the floor, walls and ceiling, and even to the tree's trunk.

_Run for your life. Save yourself. This world isn't safe._

Bob knew they were right. He opened a door at random, then another one. The new room looked different from the others: it had what looked like a puddle in the middle, its milky blue color making a strong contrast with the bloody purple that painted the rest of the room.

"Follow the river? Is that what ya meant...?"

Acting on sheer reflex, acquired during his past before being sick, Bob pressed the switch that opened the secret passage, and fled into the sewers.

  
  


**

  
  


Rebecca woke up when Monoblade dumped a liter of cold water on her face. In an instant she was on her feet, having adopted a fighting stance, but her foe hardly seemed impressed.

"Wake up swimmer girl. It's your time to shine."

"What the hell? Where are you? Do you plan to kill me?"

Monoblade chuckled.

"I'm right in front of you, dummy. Just turn the light on."

"Oh."

Rebecca did as she was told, and flicked the switch. Monoblade was smiling at her – but then again, he always did.

"What time is it?" She asked, placing both hands on her hips.

"Probably around midnight, something like that," he replied vaguely.

"Why did you wake me up?"

"Bob has escaped from his cell. He has the Furantur, and is running mad around the campus. You might want to catch him before he injures someone. Or himself."

"He- wait, _what?_ Where did he go?"

"Down, down, down," Monoblade sang.

“Now’s not the time for song, you… idiot psychopath!”

“It’s not a song, it’s a hint. Start searching.”

Rebecca cursed. She took out her monopad and began to type very quickly.

[Rebecca] EMERGENCY. BOB HAS ESCAPED, HE HAS THE FURANTUR. I'M GOING AFTER HIM.

Her message sent, she began to run. She had no idea what Monoblade meant by “down down down”, but she figured going downstairs would be a good start.

  
  


**

  
  


Bob was walking through a thick green liquid. He couldn't see through it. He could still feel his legs, but he couldn't shake off the irrational fear that they were going to melt eventually.

_Enjoy our house? Enjoy our house?_

The ghosts had never sounded so happy. Somehow that didn't comfort Bob all that much. The cave he was walking through was damp and dirty – that much was still true, even in his deformed vision of reality. But when the old sewers had merely been dirty tunnels, what Bob saw resembled more an abandoned factory left to rust. He could see complex tangles of pipes on the walls, wires dangling from the ceiling, mechanical parts spinning endlessly behind little windows, activating a mechanism long forgotten and pointless. Plants grew everywhere too, but most of them looked rotten.

"I dun't like it 'ere," he complained, his teeth clattering.

_Don't insult our home. How dare you insult our home?_

"I dun't care 'bout yer home! Yer home stinks! Rah, I'm such an idiot. Why did I hafta run?"

The ghosts didn't reply. Bob realized he was feeling cold. His cell had been warm. Part of him wanted to go back, but he was still scared of what would happen to him if he did.

"Forgive me Ryo," he told the empty tunnel. "I shoulda trusted ya more."

Bob looked down in shame. He couldn’t see his reflection in the water, but he was ready to bet he looked awful. But as he was drowning in his own misery, he noticed ripples on the water’s surface, as if something had shaken it.

"What the-"

_Run! Run! Run you fool!_

From behind him came the roar of a gigantic beast.

  
  


**

  
  


Rebecca didn't check her monopad again – all she would have seen were upset comments from Gwenn and Florian, begging for someone to open their cells so they could aid Rebecca in her search. Instead she dropped it in room 104 and jumped down the secret passage. She expected her feet to meet rock, but they fell into the water instead. The sewers were overflowing, the stream was larger and more violent than what she remembered. The recent rains probably had something to do with it.

"Okay, where to go now?

The tunnel could lead in two directions: north and south, and each path split up later to form new ones. The place was a complex maze, so how would she know where Bob went? Discouragement washed over her, and suddenly she felt like giving up.

"Come on Rebecca, there must be a way! Uh... imagine you're seeing hallucinations. Where would you go?"

Trying to put herself in Bob's shoes was a difficult task, as she quickly realized. She had no idea what kind of hallucinations he could be seeing, or what he was trying to do.

"Hey, that's a good question actually," she muttered to herself. "What's he trying to do? There's nothing to see here."

Or was there? Come to think of it, they had never explored the sewers fully. Maybe Bob was searching for a way to escape? In that case, he would probably try to follow the current.

"Well, here goes nothing."

Rebecca began to walk forward.

  
  


**

  
  


Bob ran as fast as he could, but the water was slowing him down. It stuck to his clothes like jelly, making him slow and clumsy. He had never been a really good swimmer, yet he sensed that he was going to have to force himself pretty soon. The water level already reached his waist, and the tunnel's ceiling had partially collapsed in this area, making him feel claustrophobic.

The monster roared again. Bob didn't dare look back. He sucked in as much air as he could, then dived in.

The water was hot. He surprised himself by managing to keep his eyes open, but he could see nothing besides the color green. He felt like the liquid was attacking his skin, slowly melting its surface. Fueled by his terror, he swam forward energetically. He bumped his arm against a piece of rusty metal that was stuck to the rocky bottom, badly bruising it in the process. He wanted to scream, but only managed to lose some air. He lost control of his body, but it didn't matter. The stream was strong enough to carry him at that point: he would move forward, regardless of his intentions.

The monster was getting closer: he sensed it, rather than heard or felt it. But already he was out of the water and clinging to the pavement, coughing and bleeding. His entire body felt sore, yet he didn't stop there, and instead resumed running. He turned right, inside a narrow tunnel whose ground was covered with grass and dead flowers. It opened into a clearing of some sort, where a little stream of water was flowing peacefully. Bob quickly looked around for a place to hide, but the monster had already caught him. It placed its disgusting front legs on his shoulders, wrapping them around his neck slowly. They felt cold and slimy, like giant tentacles.

"No!" He yelled in despair. "Fuck off! Let go! Let go!"

 _Let him go_ , the ghosts agreed. _Let him go, let him go, let him go._

He struggled to get loose, punching and kicking the creature as much as he could. He was very surprised when it worked. He fell to the ground on all fours, quickly getting away. The monster's roars echoed through the cavern, turning his blood to ice.

 _Fight_ , the ghosts urged him on. _Fight, fight, fight!_

Bob grabbed a rock and hurled it at the beast, but missed by a whole meter. Now that he could see it clearly, he felt even worse. It was somehow a humanoid creature, with a head like a tiger, dark fur almost everywhere, yet at the same time fins and rough patches of scales in awkward places. It was taller than him, and smelled strongly of fish. He couldn’t focus his eyes on it: the beast’s shape seemed to change constantly.

"Whut the hell are ya?" He screamed. "Go away! Lemme go! Die!"

He was crawling on the floor backwards, eyes fixed on the beast, who stared back at him with an expression that evoked pity. His right hand met a solid object, that seemed to be made of metal. He instinctly grabbed it: it was some sort of metal pipe, and quite heavy too.

_Fight! Fight! Destroy!_

"Come an' get me!" He yelled, channeling all of his emotions into his words.

The monster roared something that he couldn't understand.

  
  


**

  
  


Rebecca wasn't sure how long she had walked and swum. She had no idea how the others were doing, either. Her monopad sat alone in room 104, useless, while she wandered the sewers endlessly. Her eyes had by now perfectly adjusted themselves to the dim light, but it did her no good at all. All she could see was tunnel after tunnel, and the same brown water.

"Dammit Bob, where the hell did you go?"

He might not even be in the sewers. For all she knew, he might have gone through the hole in the laundromat's wall, and fled to the streets of Lorient. Which would mean facing execution right away, as she recalled.

_Don't panic. The secret passage was_ _already open when you came in, so he must still be around, right?_

But where? She had felt somewhat confident in her ability to find him earlier, but her confidence faltered with every step. The place was immense, and there was no telling what Bob's troubled mind could produce.

"Monoblade?" She called. "Are you here?"

"Always, kiddo," the robot replied through the speakers.

"I need your help again," she said anxiously. "Can you tell me where Bob went?"

"All I can say is that you're on the right track. Keep it up, you're almost there!"

She nodded, having found a little comfort in the robot's words.

_For all you know Bob hasn't escaped and Monoblade is just playing tricks on you. You didn't even check the science lab, did you?_

"Shut up," she muttered in frustration.

"Who, me?" Monoblade asked, confused.

"No, the voice in my head."

"Voice in your head...? Uh, you didn't contract the Furantur too, by any chance?"

"Don't be ridiculous."

Rebecca heard a noise, in the midst of the quiet atmosphere, only perturbed by the water flow. Distant footsteps, the sound of someone struggling to walk through the water. She had the stupid reflex to call out for them.

"Bob!"

He replied with a frightened shriek, and the sound of his footsteps became more distant. Cursing under her breath, Rebecca followed after him, through a narrow tunnel on her right.

_There was a gate here before, I think. Or am I confusing this place_ _with_ _another one?_

The tunnel opened to a wider area. Rebecca soon realized that they were in the room where Suzie had been executed. It momentarily surprised her, but when she noticed Bob standing on the central platform, wet and bleeding, she didn't hesitate. Placing both hands on his shoulders firmly, she gripped her fingers around him, wondering how she was going to bring him back to his cell without hurting him.

Bob reacted more violently than she had expected.

"No!" He spat at her. "Fuck off! Let go! Let go!"

He punched her thrice, with such fury (and utter lack of guilt) that he managed to catch her off-guard. Losing balance, he fell on all fours, and attempted to get away, leaving Rebecca hurt and confused.

"Ouch," she complained. "What the hell?"

Bob threw a rock at her, but missed. He looked a little pathetic, crawling to the floor like that, like a wet rat. His defiant attitude looked like frightened spite.

"Whut the hell are ya?" He whined at Rebecca. "Go away! Lemme go! Die!"

"Bob, listen to me," she replied, snapping her fingers to draw his attention. "You're hallucinating, but none of this is real. It's me, Rebecca, I'm your friend, I came to help you!"

He wasn't listening. He had grabbed some sort of metal pipe, and was yelling at her again, agitating it like a mad man. She felt a rush of anger coursing through her. It was like trying to take care of a bratty child – no matter what she said, he wouldn't listen.

"Don't you understand what I'm saying?" She asked in frustration.

Bob charged at her, weapon raised. Clearly, he didn't.

"Fine. Let's do this the hard way then."

Rebecca adopted a fighting stance, and waited.

  
  


**

  
  


The monster had an impact on Bob's environment. Each step it took sent ripples through the scenery, coloring it redder each time. Bob was sweating, his grip felt slippery on his improvised weapon. He tried to hit the monster, but suddenly there was no monster to hit. It had disintegrated in front of him, or so it seemed. But soon after he felt a strong hit landing on his neck, and he fell to the floor, panting.

 _Don't give up!_ The ghosts urged him. _Fight, fight, kill it!_

"Can't y'all keep quiet for a bit?" He complained. "I'm tryin' to concentrate."

Bob got back up painfully, wiping the water that was soaking his beard. The monster wasn't moving: it was probably waiting for his next attack.

"That's how it's gonna be, huh?" He asked, his voice like the growling of an angry wolf.

Bob wasn't aware, but his abilities to handle street fights were part of why the GTU had recruited him. One couldn't become the _ultimate_ hobo if they didn't possess the ability to defend themselves should the need arise. He knew how to fight, probably better than most people. More specifically, he knew how to fight _dirty_. Rebecca knew how to fight too, but her techniques were vastly different. In her world fighting had rules, a code of honor, some moves were prohibited. The knowledge she possessed was academic, while Bob relied almost purely on instinct and emotion.

When he attacked again, he bent his body at an odd angle to strike the monster's stomach, but retracted his weapon at the last moment to hit the floor instead, while carrying the initial assault with a punch. Satisfied to feel it landing where he had intended it to, he quickly leaped backwards, grinning.

  
  


**

  
  


Rebecca doubled over in pain. What was going on? It had been a slow punch, she should have been able to dodge it easily. But Bob's attack had been so strange, so illogical that she had been at loss, completely unable to counter it.

And there he was, grinning like an idiot. Was he enjoying this? No, he was still very afraid of her, it was clear as day. Whatever his mind painted her as, it must be something quite ugly.

Bob attacked again, but this time Rebecca was able to counter the blow with her arms. The cold metal made no sound when it bounced against her flesh. Bob struck again and again, almost mad with fury, always finding a way to surprise Rebecca with his absurd moves. It took all her concentration to fend him off, and she didn't dare striking back yet.

_Why? Get a hold of yourself. You_ _should be able to beat him easily. Why is he still standing?_

Seeing an opening, she tried to punch him, but retracted her hand at the last second, afraid to break his teeth or his nose. But she quickly understood it was a bad idea. Bob seized the opportunity and hit her twice, forcing her to retreat. The ground collapsed underneath her, and she fell in the water.

_Idiot! Why are you holding back? Knock him out and get this over with! What are you so afraid of?_

"Myself," she whispered in understanding.

It wasn't Bob she saw in front of her, but Bertrand. She was the same Rebecca who had almost killed Bertrand in the torture room all those weeks ago, and the same Rebecca who had failed to help him. Bertrand who had been sick, alone and afraid, just like Bob. Bertrand who had been bloody and desperate, just like Bob.

_You left him to die. You abandoned him._ _You ran away when he needed you the most._

She felt miserable and disgusting. When Bob hit her on the face again, she didn’t even try to resist. The metal pipe shook her jaw badly. She heard something cracking, tasted blood and fell back into the water, spitting out a tooth. Bob looked very surprised to have succeeded. Pointing his finger at her, he seemed like he wanted to yell something, but his eyes were blurry and unfocused, as if he weren't all there. In the end he reinforced his grip on the metal pipe and fled.

A rush of wariness washed over Rebecca as she massaged her swollen cheek.

"What am I even doing?" She asked in discouragement. "Why can't I do anything right?"

_Because_ _don’t trust yourself_ _._ _You have enough strength to do the right thing, but you systematically give up at the crucial point._

The water felt heavier than it usually did. It was cold, but Rebecca didn’t mind. She had always been at ease in the water. How easy it would be to lie down on her back and let the stream carry her like a paper boat. She wouldn't have to worry about herself, her actions and their consequences anymore. She could finally be free of this burden and put an end to her miserable life.

_You said you wanted to change, though. Was that just another lie?_

"No, probably not."

_Then what are you doing? Bertrand is forever_ _lost_ _, but you can still_ _help_ _Bob. You're the only one who can._

"Only one...?"

_Get up and run you idiot!_

Rebecca got up painfully, and walked.

  
  


**

  
  


Bob found himself near a waterfall. He had previously thought that he was walking on the lowest floor, but it seemed that he could go even lower. The perspective wasn’t enchanting, but he saw no way of going up. Gazing at the ceiling, he noticed that strange red lights were pouring from little cracks in the stone, as if the setting sun was trying to pour itself through the gaps. Looking down, the water was bubbling and spinning angrily, as if eagerly waiting to swallow him hole. It evoked him the mouth of a giant monster. He could even discern some big teeth poking out here and there.

"Where the hell am I?" He muttered to himself.

_We do not know. All we know is that you have to escape from here. Climb your way out._

Bob stared at the nearest wall. It didn't exactly look safe to climb. In fact it looked thin and fragile, ready to collapse at any second. The remains of a half-broken ladder were made into rotten vines by the virus in his brain.

"Here goes nuthin'," he stated uncertainly as he grabbed onto the vines and began to climb up.

The monster appeared soon after, roaring even louder than before. Bob began to shake. If he wasn't high enough by the time the beast reached him, he'd be stuck with no way of defending himself. His fingers, soaked with sweat, were made even more slippery than before.

 _Just a little higher!_ The ghosts chanted. _Just a little higher and you'll be free!_

But how could it be? The exit had never seemed further away. Bob lifted a trembling hand, which he gripped around the highest branch he could reach.

It snapped.

"Fu-!"

He felt himself falling, the ghosts screeching in despair as he went down. At the edges of his vision, he could faintly see the monster throwing itself at him, wrapping its tentacles around his body before they were both claimed by the abyss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we go! What did you think? I'd really like some feedback on this one (though I enjoy feedback anywhere, honestly), so if you have something to say, good or bad, don't hesitate to comment! Meanwhile I'll be writing the next chapter, to not leave you hanging on this cliff for too long.


	53. Underworld

Rebecca fell. It felt like it would never end. The waterfall tossed her around like a toy, pushing her down and down again. She clung to Bob like he was her most prized possession, attempting to shield him from harm. Later, it would be said that Rebecca only survived thanks to her talent as the ultimate swimmer – but in that moment, it didn’t feel like she was using her talent at all. Using her talent would require actual control over the situation.

They fell down inside a large and muddy pipe, which curved at a ninety degrees angle, pushing them against a metal gate. Rebecca thought the drop would finally end there, but unfortunately the gate fell from its hinges, and Bob with it, and Rebecca with Bob. She barely had time to hold her breath before they were tossed into a lake.

Rebecca opened her eyes. She was momentarily confused, having forgotten where were up and down, left and right. She was underwater, yes, but where was Bob? There, she was still holding his hand. The cold lights made his face look gaunt. His eyes were closed, his mouth was open, he wasn’t moving. She needed to pull him back to the surface before he drowned. She swam in a circle around him, tying her arms around her chest, ready to kick with her legs to push them both toward the surface. That’s when she noticed.

The lake was huge. Most importantly, it wasn’t really a lake, but an underwater mine. Though it was clear that it hadn’t been used in a very long time, she could still see the various tunnels, train tracks and abandoned carts lying useless at the bottom, half-buried under the dirt. It was such an odd sight that she momentarily forgot herself, and what she was trying to do.

Archimedes’ principle claimed her, and before she knew it, her head was piercing the water’s surface. She finally breathed in, only then realizing how lightheaded she had felt. Awkwardly peddling backwards, she dragged Bob toward a half-collapsed footbridge, made of rusty metal. It stood right underneath the waterfall. Grabbing the handrail, she lifted herself first, and took care of Bob second. He coughed and spitted out water, then threw up in the lake while she held up his hair so it wouldn’t be dirtied. Then he lied down on the footbridge, breathless and exhausted. It seemed all his fighting spirit had left him.

Rebecca took a view of her surroundings. They had fallen down a massive cave, shaped like an egg. There was a complex network of tunnels and bridges which stretched above them, in and out of the water. She couldn’t see the sewers anymore, and had no idea where they had fallen from. She didn’t know how they were going to escape from this place either.

“Monoblade?” She asked hesitantly. “Can you hear me?”

No reply came: clearly, he couldn’t. It made her feel even weirder than before. Strange as it might be, she had gotten used to being constantly under his watchful eye. The little robot had popped out from so many unexpected places, she wouldn’t be surprised to find out that he had a secret passage that led inside the president’s bathroom.

And yet, whatever this place was, it seemed to be beyond him.

“No Monoblade,” she mused. “No cameras either, I suppose.”

Rebecca suddenly realized what that meant: she had broken a rule. Neither her nor Bob were supposed to be here. If the kidnappers managed to catch them, they’d both be executed.

_We have to get out of here. Now._

“Bob, get up,” she commanded.

He didn’t move, so she grabbed his hand, and forced him to get to his feet.

“Be a good boy and follow me, won’t you? And don’t try to sneak up on me. I’ll know if you do.”

Rebecca didn’t know why she bothered to talk to Bob at all. His face no longer betrayed any emotion. It was obvious he wasn’t listening to her, and even if he were, he could probably no longer understand her anyway.

_You’re wasting your breath._

“I’m not wasting my breath,” she said stubbornly. “Talking to myself is a good way to repress unwanted emotions… like panic, for instance.”

Nodding to herself, as if she were both the orator and the audience of her own mental speech, she grabbed Bob’s hand firmly and walked along the footbridge. It looked neither stable nor solid, and she’d rather not stay on it for too long if she could avoid it.

The footbridge ended in a cluster of debris, but Rebecca patiently removed them one by one, and was satisfied to find a door hidden behind. Pressing the handle, she found it locked. Thankfully, it was easy to bust it down with a shoulder kick.

_This whole place is falling apart._

She moved forward, inside a musty hallway which smelled of iron and rot. It was probably part of a building of some sort, but she couldn’t guess what. The bare gray walls gave no hints of its purpose. It simply connected to another door, which led to an empty room.

“Okay,” she said with a weary sigh. “Let’s get lost in the huge abandoned underground facility, shall we? That’s a nice holiday location, I guess.”

Bob said nothing. He was staring at his feet. Rebecca realized he wasn’t wearing any shoes.

_Wonderful. It’s not enough that he has the Furantur, he needs to catch a cold too. Not that it matters, considering we’re both getting executed in a few minutes._

Rebecca kept walking, trying to ignore the depressing voice in her head that told her to give up on everything. She might have failed Bertrand, but she was determined to save Bob at any cost. She could claim that it was her fault if they had left the killing game’s grounds. She could lie and pretend that she had pushed him down the waterfall – perhaps the kidnappers would be content with only one execution.

_But will you even have the courage to sacrifice yourself?_

She had no idea. As much as she tried to wrap her head around the idea, death never felt like something that could happen to her. The idea that she could simply vanish from this world, be tortured and taken away, it meant nothing to her. It was like a massive question mark, devoid of any sense.

_Death is something that happens to others._

She kept walking. Eventually she found a yellow metallic stairway which looked almost new. If she had to guess, it had been built quite recently. Perhaps someone was trying to rebuild or expand the mines? More importantly, that “someone” could hardly be anyone besides the kidnappers.

“How much money do these assholes even have?” She asked in frustration.

_There will be people up there. Walking up those stairs means giving up on any chance you still had to escape without being seen._

Though that was true, Bob and her were both injured. She didn’t know how long they could survive in those gloomy ruins on their own. Not to mention, though he might look calm now, there was no saying how he would act in a few minutes, or a few hours. He could attack her at any moment. Therefore, taking a deep breath, Rebecca decided to climb up the stairs.

She found another door. This one was unlocked, but opened with some difficulty. Rebecca quickly understood why: on the other side, the path was blocked by a pile of crates. She found herself in some kind of storage room, where all the supplies were kept in blue metal crates. She opened one at random and found some clothes inside. Another one contained hammers of all kinds, a third displayed an impressive collection of comic books. Rebecca noticed that Bob was very careful not to touch anything. Besides the two of them, the room was empty.

“Hello?” She asked around. “Is anyone here?”

No reply came. There was another door on the opposite end of the room: sticking her ear against the wood, Rebecca could hear muffled voices, from at least three different people, who seemed to be somewhat far away. Shrugging, she decided to open that door too. The next room stretched out beyond her sight. It was huge, had a very high roof, was brightly lit, and most importantly, was full of people. It looked like a factory of some sort: dozens of men and women were working inside, but they all stopped what they were doing when they saw Rebecca and Bob coming in.

There was a brief silence.

"Hi," Rebecca began shyly. "Do you-"

Everybody began to scream at once. Men and women were pushing themselves in a desperate attempt to rush toward the exit. It was raw, feral and undignified – major panic had taken control of the room. In less than a minute, Rebecca and Bob found themselves alone again.

"The hell...?" Rebecca muttered.

_They're afraid of the Furantur. Last time it got out, they had to wipe out a city. Imagine if the same thing happened again?_

Rebecca briefly abandoned Bob and began to walk forward. Wherever this place was, she had never seen it before. Now that everyone was gone, she was free to investigate: who knew, perhaps this place would hold a clue that would help them escape? She began to walk among the tables. The workers had been wearing gray uniforms that made them look like prisoners, did that mean they were held against their will?

 _What kind of a powerful organization are we up against?_ She wondered anxiously.

She crouched in front of a desk with a computer, then shook the wireless mouse. The PC lit up, revealing a Facebook page. Clearly, this person had been slacking – though this wasn't at all what she had been looking for, Rebecca found herself mesmerized. She hadn't had any connection to the outside world in so long, scrolling through social media felt like a long forgotten habit. She lost precious minutes staring at pictures of people she didn't know, reading about their lives and perusing their private conversations. It was like fresh food to a starved woman. When it finally occurred to her that she should be looking at the online newspapers to find out what had been going on in the outside world, her internet access was suddenly cut off, and the PC froze. Cursing, she threw the wireless mouse against a wall in anger.

She then realized Bob was sobbing. He was sitting against a wall, hidden under a table and hugging himself. Rebecca had never seen him losing complete control of his emotions this way. It shook her.

_It's the Furantur. Stage 2: subjects lose their ability to control their emotions. Earlier it was fear, now it's sadness and despair._

"It's not just the Furantur," Rebecca heard herself saying. "He's been through a lot."

_You can't do anything to help him. Keep searching the room for clues, or you'll regret it later._

Feeling a little guilty, Rebecca forced herself to abandon him, and took a view of her surroundings. Truth be told, this factory looked a lot like the one she had visited on the research facility’s 3rd floor. The main difference was that this one was much bigger.

_Maybe the other one was a prototype?_

In here they were making robots too. Mostly humanoid robots, from what she could tell. Interestingly enough, not two of the prototypes she could see in this room were the same – Rebecca could only assume they were still testing different models. There was nowhere a trace of a robot like Monoblade, though they were clearly made from the same material.

"Maybe that's what the mines are for?" She pondered out loud.

She vaguely recalled being lectured by Aphrodite about a special kind of steel that could only be found in the earth beneath Lorient. She didn't remember what it was called, or any of its properties – at the time, it hadn't seemed relevant at all. But now that she knew that their kidnappers were employing an army of slaves to make an army of robots, she suddenly cursed herself for being so careless.

"What is even going on with the world?" She asked the empty room, waving her arms angrily.

_Whatever is going on, it doesn’t seem to have affected people all that much. Recall the Facebook page from earlier._

It was true. People on Facebook seemed to know something about robots – they had been mentioned them a few times in text posts, though she hadn’t seen any in the few pictures and videos recently shared. Maybe they were used as weapons for the war? People had been talking about the war a lot, which meant it must still be ongoing.

The door suddenly opened, shattering her train of thoughts like a glass. Two people came in, looking like they had recently been working at a nuclear power station. The uniforms they wore covered their entire bodies – not an inch of skin was exposed. Even their faces were concealed. Rebecca raised her hands in the air.

“I’m sorry, we didn’t mean to-”

One of the men drew a dart gun, and shot her in the neck, without saying a word. Nothing happened for a while. Rebecca almost wondered if they hadn’t missed her, despite feeling the needle planted in her vein. Then the world began to melt around her.

“Why...” she began. “Why would you...”

She fell on the floor before she could finish her sentence. She heard Bob getting up from under the table, attempting to run away from the room. Something fell, someone cursed, and everything turned to black.

  
  


**

  
  


When Typhaine read Rebecca’s message, her first reflex was to release Gwenn and Florian from their cells. The three of them split up and began to search the facility, hoping to find Bob before he did something stupid, or hurt someone. Not long after, Typhaine found Ryoji, lying unconscious on the floor. She had begun to inexpertly treat his wounds when Gwenn came to warn her that the helicopter had been sighted.

“Should we move his body?” She asked anxiously.

“It would be too dangerous, I think,” Gwenn countered. “Let’s go to the parking lot, we’ll tell them where they can find him.”

The helicopter had landed in the middle of the ever-expanding garden, mercilessly crushing Florian’s gorgeous flower bushes. Four people came out of it: a man and a woman carrying a stretcher, followed by two soldiers holding shotguns.

“Good evening to all of you,” a female soldier said cheerfully. “We heard that there was a wounded that needed to be taken care of?”

She looked very young; in fact they all did. They all seemed pretty happy too, as if they were tourists visiting a particularly exciting location. They made Typhaine nervous. She had lived on the killing game’s grounds for so long that seeing all these people popping out at once felt like an invasion of privacy. She knew that she was supposed to say something, but she was frozen in place, completely incapable of uttering a single word. Thankfully, Gwenn came to rescue her.

“Good evening,” they said neutrally. “Ryoji is in the 2nd science lab, if he’s the one you’re looking for.”

“Oh, it’s the fat one!” The male soldier said in obvious delight. “He’s one of my favorites, always has been.”

“Meh, he’s a little overrated I think,” one of the stretcher holders replied with a shrug.

“Maybe, but I still love him. Say,” he added, turning his attention back to Gwenn, “would you mind leading us to him?”

“Uh… okay.”

Gwenn turned around and began to walk, looking thoroughly confused. The stretcher holders walked in their steps, followed by the soldiers. Typhaine followed the group while maintaining a safe distance. It was a cold night, the clouds blocking off the moon and stars completely. She had a very bad feeling, like something horrible was about to take place.

Soon they were near the science lab’s entrance. The stretcher was placed on the floor, its bearers bent their legs and grabbed Ryoji’s body very carefully. They were wearing surgical masks and gloves, and yet they seemed nervous about the task. Typhaine could understand why. His virus was a very nasty thing, no one would want to catch it.

“Oh it’s _this_ one,” The female soldier commented with a snort. “He’s been through your hospital so many times by now, you might as well give him a loyalty card.”

Gwenn twitched in place, seemingly restless. They glared at the female soldier with intensity.

“Who _are_ you?” They asked nervously.

“Me? Why should it matter?” She replied innocently.

Gwenn opened their mouth, but didn’t reply. Typhaine shot them a curious look, but they avoided her gaze. She frowned, but didn’t dare comment while the soldiers were still around.

The stretcher bearers left the room, closely followed by the soldiers. Gwenn and Typhaine followed them after a brief moment of hesitation.

“I know it’s silly, but every time they take one of our friends away like that, I’m afraid they’ll never come back,” Typhaine whispered.

“I know, I feel the same,” Gwenn confessed.

They walked in silence until they reached the parking lot. It was at this moment that Florian joined them, coming from the other side. He was glaring bitterly at the damage the helicopter had done to his garden. When he noticed Gwenn and Typhaine, he ran to meet them.

“What’s going on?” He asked quietly. “Ryoji was attacked?”

“We’re not sure,” Gwenn replied. “We just found him, and he was already unconscious at that point.”

The stretcher had already been placed inside the helicopter. The female soldier waved.

“It’s been lovely to finally meet you all,” she said with a smile. “I wish you lots of happiness in the continuation of the killing game!”

Typhaine winced. She already felt bad enough without having to be taunted by this woman.

“Should we-” she began.

But then she noticed Florian’s face. He had gotten pale and sweaty, but there was more to it than that. He looked like someone had stabbed him in the back, he had this look of horrified surprise and disgust, mixed with a hint of uncertainty. He turned around quickly, but the helicopter was already taking flight.

“What’s going on?” Typhaine asked worriedly. “Did you see something?”

“I recognize that voice,” Florian explained, clearly in shock. “That woman is my sister!”

_“_ _What?”_

“But what is she doing here?” Gwenn asked. “Do you think she’s planning to rescue you?”

Florian snorted, then sniffled. It was a very sad snort, Typhaine thought.

“Rescue me? As if. She doesn’t care about me. No, what I wonder is why she was dressed like a soldier. My sister is a businesswoman, not a warrior. She shouldn’t even know how to hold a gun properly.”

The helicopter was already high in the sky, carrying its questions with it.

“I don’t know what to say,” Gwenn admitted.

“It’s all right, friend,” Florian replied, nervously grooming his hair. “I don’t know either. This is just… so odd. Out of all the people it could be, why did my sister have to be among our kidnappers?”

Typhaine’s eyes widened.

“Hold on! Your family is super rich, right? What if _they’re_ the kidnappers?”

“Typhaine!” Gwenn scolded. “That’s insensitive!”

“I don’t mind,” Florian said wearily. “To be honest, I don’t think it’s completely out of the question. They’d definitely run a killing game if there was money in the deal.”

“You can’t possibly mean that,” Gwenn countered, almost angrily. “I know you have a distant relationship with them, but surely...”

Their voice trailed off. They didn’t dare finish their sentence, and Typhaine understood why. It seemed hard to say a good word about Florian’s family after what his sister had done.

“It’s all right Gwenn,” Florian said with a little smile. “You don’t have to say anything. I can handle this well on my own. I have for the past nineteen years, after all.”

 _He’s only nineteen?_ Typhaine wondered in surprise. _I thought we were all older than twenty-one._

“How about we continue searching for Rebecca and Bob?” He suggested. “I’m done with my inspection of the restaurant and apartment suites, but I have yet to search the graveyard, laundromat and sports store.”

“Right, Typhaine and I inspected the 1st floor, but we still need to look through the 2nd and 3rd. Any news of Rebecca?”

Typhaine took out her monopad.

“Nothing new.”

Gwenn sighed.

“I feel like this is all pointless, but… let’s keep searching.”

“If only Magalie agreed to help us,” Florian added in frustration.

“We’ll have to confront her tomorrow about this. She won’t get away with it.”


	54. Hounds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter was a little short, get ready for a LONG BOI

Ryoji woke up, assaulted by a sea of different smells. First there was the smothering smell of lavender-scented cleaning product, the moisture in the air, his own sweat, the disinfectant on his wounds and the blood he had spilled. It was already overwhelming enough, but it became even weirder when he realized he could even smell things that didn’t have a smell: his mattress, the wood from the nearby furniture, even the window’s handle and the walls.

_What the hell’s going on?_

Then he remembered that he was hungry. No, he was _dying._ When was the last time he had eaten? He needed something to chew, anything, or he would soon perish.

“Food,” he said as loud as his painful throat would allow. “Is anyone here? Please help, I’m so hungry!”

His tongue had never felt so heavy before. It was like having swallowed a sock. Thankfully, a male nurse walked in almost immediately, carrying a tray. Ryoji could tell what was on the plate without even seeing it. There was a rice salad, for starters. It was cold, and packed with three types of vegetables (cut in squares, roughly two centimeters in length): cucumbers, bell peppers (yellow), and carrots. There were also two hard boiled eggs in there (each cut in six pieces of roughly equal size), and mayonnaise had been used to tie everything together. Ryoji nearly jumped out of his bed to rush to get the food as quickly as he could. The bowl was quite large (did it count as a bowl, or was it a salad bowl? _)_ , but not large enough to satisfy him. Still, it would have to do for now.

The first bite was so overwhelming that he had to put the fork down and take a moment to calm his beating heart. It was like all the tastes exploding in his mouth at the same time, and for something as bland as a rice salad, it tasted ridiculously strong. Mistaking his reaction for disgust, the nurse asked:

“Is it not to your taste? Do you need me to bring you something else?”

“No no, it’s fine,” Ryoji replied, sweating.

He swallowed.

“It’s just a little strong. Did you put spices in there? I can’t seem to handle those very well.”

Even as he was saying that, he was already picking up his fork and eating a bigger bite than the previous one. It might burn his tongue to a crisp, but he would eat the whole bowl, until there wasn’t a single grain left.

“Spices?” The male nurse asked, raising an eyebrow. “I didn’t put any spices in there.”

Well, that was odd – but not so surprising, all things considered. If there had indeed been spices in the salad, Ryoji would have smelled them.

 _You are getting distracted,_ a voice in his head told him. _And you haven’t even thanked this man yet._

“For’ive mah ru’eness,” he said, mouth full. “Gimme a mo’.”

He put the tray aside, then knelt in front of the man, joining his hands in a prayer gesture.

“Thank you so much for bringing me food, kind sir. I’ll remember it my whole life.”

“Uh…”

The man looked very uncomfortable. He seemed to try very hard to avoid Ryoji’s gaze.

“No need to thank me sir. I was ordered to bring you as much food as you desired. Will this bowl be enough?”

“No,” Ryoji replied firmly. “I mean… sorry, it won’t be enough.”

Unable to resist any longer, Ryoji grabbed the bowl again, and took a third bite. He wanted the man in front of him to leave the room, so he could dump his entire face into the bowl, and lose what little dignity he had left to his endless gluttony.

“I will make some more,” the nurse promised, before leaving the room.

Ryoji was vaguely aware that he had made a fool of himself. For once, he didn’t care. His body was screaming at him that survival was currently more important than manners, a piece of advice which he was glad to listen to.

Three bowls of rice salad later (the nurse wasn’t a very creative person apparently), Ryoji began to wonder where he was. All other questions had previously been drowned by his overwhelming need to eat, but now that he was fed, he was beginning to think properly again.

_I’m wearing the prison uniform, so I must be at the hospital again. Wait, hold on-_

Going to the hospital usually meant leaving short of one finger. Ryoji raised both hands in front of his face, feeling slightly worried. Yet it seemed like he still had all seven of his fingers (which really wasn’t much, but always better than six).

_So they took another of my toes?_

But looking down (with some difficulty) didn’t yield any results: he still had as many toes as he was supposed to.

_Okay, maybe they didn’t take anything this time. Or…_

Ryoji found himself wondering what other body part they could have removed without him noticing. It was a very disturbing question to ask oneself. He got up from his bed, walked toward the mirror, and inspected himself thoroughly. For a while, he couldn’t find what was missing, and spent an unreasonable amount of time checking that nothing had been removed. He checked several times that his privates had been untouched (you never knew). Giving up, he ended up asking the nurse, who explained that a small section of his left ear had been cut (apparently it was not enough to permanently damage his hearing, but Ryoji had this doubts). It was undoubtedly strange news, but all told it could have been worse, and so he chose to move on.

“When can I see my friends again? Also, what time is it?”

“It’s nearly 11am, and I suppose you can leave now if you’re feeling okay. But your head wound will not fully heal until a while, so watch out for it, okay?”

“All right sir, I’ll do my best, but it’s kinda hard to not injure yourself when you’re forced to participate to a killing game,” he said in an explanatory tone, as if teaching the nurse something he might have not known. “By the way, what’s your name sir?”

The man appeared to be caught off guard.

“What? Why would you want to know that?”

“Because it’s more polite. I used to have a friend who was polite all the time, and I’d like to be more like him.”

“I uh… don’t think I’m allowed to tell you.”

“Oh,” Ryoji said in disappointment.

He was led toward the door by the nurse, who had placed a hand on his back. Ryoji found this gesture very odd. Wasn’t the man afraid of catching the hungry virus?

_Maybe it’s not as contagious as we thought. The virus files didn’t say much about infectiousness, after all._

“Wait, I have another question,” Ryoji suddenly said, stopping in the middle of a hallway.

“Yes?”

“Has anyone found Bob? You know, my friend Bob, very skinny blond guy, doesn’t know how to wash his hair properly, but we still love him very much?”

“Yes, I know the names of all the participants in the killing game,” came the man’s bitter reply. “As a matter of a fact, your friend Bob is currently in this very hospital. His injuries are currently being treated, though his sickness isn’t, per the rules of course.”

“Oh thank goodness,” Ryoji said with a sigh of relief. “Can I see him?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Why should I tell you?”

“Because… well, that would be nice.”

“Not interested.”

“In being nice?”

“Indeed.”

“Well, that’s not the answer I expected,” Ryoji admitted. “But I respect your decision.”

“Oh, wonderful,” the man replied sarcastically. “Now get the fuck out of here and let me get back to work.”

  
  


**

  
  


The helicopter ride was short. Ryoji was left alone in a muddy parking lot. It was raining, but he didn’t mind. The absence of his friends was a bit more concerning. He took a few hesitant steps, looking left and right.

_Careful where you place your feet, dummy!_

The garden had recently been tended to by Gwenn and Florian’s expert hands: now each section was neatly arranged in a little square, perfectly trimmed, surrounded by narrow patches of raw dirt (probably intended for people to walk through). The bamboo tree was taller than ever, surrounded by a few baby bamboo trees, to Ryoji’s utter delight. Near the research facility’s entrance, a stack of tall and slender trees had begun to grow: they looked like a bouquet of straws, lovingly tied together by an ivy string.

No one came to greet Ryoji, but a faint meow caught his attention and directed it toward the restaurant. Hope was standing by the entrance, apparently confused by something. Ryoji walked in his direction – but as he grew closer, he began to hear voices. It sounded like two people were arguing, quite loudly. Stepping into the light, Ryoji found Magalie, sitting on one of the chairs, and Gwenn standing next to her. The two were so engrossed in their conversation that they failed to notice him entering.

“… don’t understand you at all,” Gwenn was saying, angrily twisting a stress ball. “After all we’ve been through, after what Ferdinand said-”

“Ferdinand was a fool, and so are you. I don’t need a fool’s advice.”

Unlike Gwenn’s words, which carried the heat of barely contained rage, Magalie’s sentences were like a cold shower. She didn’t even look them in the eyes. And with the surgical mask on her face, it was almost impossible to read her emotions.

“What the hell?” Gwenn repeated, horrified. “What did you just say?”

“That you were a fool, and that I didn’t care about your opinion.”

“No, not that, I don’t care about that part! Magalie, come on, this isn’t funny anymore. Whatever you’re trying to convince us of, you don’t have to go that far as to insult Ferdinand’s memory, it’s not… it’s just not okay.”

“Don’t worry, I understand your feelings. Two fools enjoy each other’s company, so it’s no wonder you miss him.”

“Stop it,” Gwenn begged. “Stop it! Or at least, explain to me what’s wrong! I’m just... tired of fighting you.”

“Then leave,” Magalie replied neutrally. “I never asked to be bothered by you.”

“Uhm, guys?” Ryoji tried, raising one hand to get their attention.

“But I can’t!” Gwenn exploded. “Because Bob and Rebecca are still missing, and we have to look for them! For fuck’s sake Magalie, Jordana is _dying_ in her bed, Typhaine can barely walk, Florian’s already exhausted and has recently discovered that his bloody _sister_ was working for the kidnappers, and you still refuse to help us?”

“Let them die,” Magalie replied, with a surprising amount of bitterness.

It was enough to silence everyone in the room, including Hope. Ryoji even held his breath, anxiously waiting for the argument to resume.

“Mag,” Gwenn said, their voice strained. “I don’t understand. I thought we were friends.”

“How arrogant of you,” Magalie replied flatly. “Simply because I used to tolerate your presence doesn’t mean I have to like you.”

“Mag!”

“Do _not_ call me-”

But before Magalie could finish her sentence, she was seized by a powerful coughing fit. Dropping the book she had been holding, she fell from her chair and on her knees, and began to wheeze in agony. Each cough seemed to rattle the inside of her throat with a blade. Within a second, her mask was soaked with blood.

“Magalie!” Gwenn and Ryoji shouted at the same time.

“Don’t touch me,” Magalie grunted.

She got up on her own and left the room, barely casting Ryoji a side glance, before disappearing in the rain.

“Ryo!” Gwenn said in shock. “I didn’t see you there. We should-”

“Go after her, yes,” Ryoji finished, nodding furiously.

The rain was far stronger than it had previously been. It was so thick that it was actually a little hard to see through. Between the smell of the various plants, the mud and grass, his own sweat and the rain, Ryoji was once again overwhelmed with sensations. If it hadn’t been for his size and the hungry virus, he would have asked to lean down on Gwenn’s shoulder.

Magalie fought the storm bravely. She nearly collapsed on several occasions, but managed to reach the facility’s entrance without fainting. Gwenn followed her from a safe distance, to make sure she actually reached her destination. Ryoji was far behind: when he finally reached the northern hallway, the other two were already beyond his sight. He fell on the floor and rested his back against the wall, breathing out loudly. His belly was hurting a little.

“Wasn’t this virus supposed to help with digestion or something?” He asked no one in particular.

“It was,” replied Monoblade, who was standing a few meters away.

“Oh hi Mono,” Ryoji said with a lazy wave. “Say, you wouldn’t have happened to buy raincoats for us, would you?”

“As a matter of a fact, I did. They’re in the elevator room, but I can fetch a crate for you.”

“That would be lovely, yes.”

Monoblade came back a little while later, pushing the crate, then disappeared. Gwenn arrived in the hallway soon after.

“Magalie’s resting, I think she fell asleep,” they explained, pointing to the space behind them with their left thumb. “She’s not doing okay, obviously, but she has plenty of blankets in case it gets too cold, and all types of painkillers on her beside table. I helped her change her mask, she drank some water… I don’t really know what else to do.”

“I see,” Ryoji replied. “Thanks for taking care of her.”

“No problem, of course.”

“Why were you two arguing? What happened?”

Gwenn crouched so they could be at Ryoji’s level, but soon their legs gave out and they fell on their butt. They looked like they wanted to say something, but a suspicious expression briefly crossed their face, and they seemed to hold back.

“That doesn’t really matter right now. More importantly, why did you follow us? Ryo, you’re already sick, you shouldn’t be running under the storm like that.”

“Sorry,” Ryoji replied, looking down in shame. “I realize it was a little stupid of me, but I didn’t really think before I acted.”

“Well, too late now I guess.” (Gwenn smiled.) “At any rate, I’m glad to have you back. How’s your head? Does it still hurt?”

“I don’t feel my head.”

“Huh. That’s a weird answer. But I guess it’s a good thing?”

Ryoji shrugged.

“What about your virus?” They asked. “Are you hungry? You must be. I should make something for you. I at least owe you a decent meal after all you’ve done for us.”

“I just ate. But I could go for another meal, right now,” he admitted. “Something hot would be appreciated.”

“Gotcha.”

“But before we go, I have a few questions,” Ryoji insisted. “Like for instance, what happened here while I was out? All I remember is waking up in the science lab with a big wound on my head, and asking Monoblade to open Rebecca’s door so she could go after Bob.”

“Oh, _that’s_ how she got out,” Gwenn realized. “Well, after the _hélicoptère_ came to pick you up, Flo Typh and I split up to search the place. We were up all night, but we didn’t find anything. Magalie refused to help us, which is why I kinda got mad earlier.”

“Bob is safe at the hospital,” Ryoji explained. “I asked one of the doctors before I left. I assume Rebecca is up there too.”

“Oh, really? That’s wonderful news! I gotta tell the others, just give me a moment.”

Gwenn quickly typed something on their monopad, and switched their attention back to Ryoji.

“Now I’m really _extra_ glad you’re back. Hey, mind if I hug you?”

“Hug?” Ryoji repeated in fear. “But Gwenn, I’m sick-”

“And I’ve had a very stressful argument with Magalie, preceded by an atrociously long night of searching, with very little sleep as a reward for my useless efforts. I’m beyond caring about contracting that stupid virus, so just… let me have my hug, won’t you?”

“Fine,” Ryoji reluctantly agreed. “The doctor touched my back earlier, and he wasn’t wearing gloves, so I assume my virus isn’t super duper contagious. I hope so anyway.”

Ryoji got up with a little effort, then extended his arms and let Gwenn fall onto him. As always, he knew exactly where to place his hands, how to hold his body so that Gwenn would be feeling the maximum amount of comfort while it lasted. He knew how long to make it last, and easily synchronized his breathing with his friend’s. He took the time to ruffle Gwenn’s hair a little, making them giggle. When they parted, Ryoji felt more relaxed, and knew that he wasn’t the only one.

“Oh,” was all Gwenn could say. “Okay, I need a moment.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Is _everything okay?_ You bet everything is okay! That was _amazing!”_

“Really?” Ryoji said shyly.

“Yeah! I’ll admit, I used to think your talent was a bit of a joke – but I was just stupid. It’s not just hugging, it’s really… it’s really something else, I dunno how to describe it. Maybe I’m just a little touch-starved or something, but… wow. Thank you Ryoji.”

“You’re welcome, obviously.”

Both were a little red.

“How about we have that meal now?” Ryoji asked.

Gwenn removed their sweater, and rolled it like a mop. Water poured down on the floor like rain.

“I think I’m going to have a shower first, if that’s okay with you.”

“Oh, of course. Actually, maybe I should be having one too?”

“Sure thing. Let’s go to the water room.”

They walked side by side for a bit. The only noise was their wet shoes squeaking against the floor. But now that Gwenn had removed their sweater, Ryoji noticed that a tool was hanging from their belt. More specifically, Florian’s crowbard.

“Say, why do you have that thing? Is it the one from...”

“From Ferdinand’s trial? Yes. Florian found it in your room when we searched the campus last night. I didn’t even know you had kept it.”

“Well… to be honest, I kinda forgot I even had it. I think I woke up with it on the day after the trial. I must have cleaned it, then put it on my bedside table, and never used it again.”

“It’s a little bit disturbing when you know how it was used, I guess,” Gwenn admitted.

“But then, why do you have it now?”

“Because Florian wanted me to hold onto it. He said that if I met Bob, he might freak out and attack me which… you know, didn’t seem all that unlikely. It felt good to keep it in my hand as I searched. It as a solid weight, it makes a cool wooshy sound when I wave it… y’know?”

“I get it.”

A few minutes later, they were both in the shower. Ryoji found himself wondering how much his body had changed since he had contracted the virus. He didn’t exactly _feel_ heavier than before, and he couldn’t really see the changes either. All his clothes felt a little tighter than before, but if it hadn’t been for that, would he have even realized?

_It’s incredible how I can still worry about something as trivial as my weight in a situation like this. But what can you do? Your body is supposed to carry you everywhere – it’s_ _a real tragedy when you don’t like it._

Coming out of the shower, Ryoji went to his room to get changed, then walked straight toward the restaurant, catching one of Monoblade’s rain coats along the way. Gwenn was already in the kitchen, preparing something that looked and smelled a lot like fish stew. The other person in the room was Florian, who looked as elegant as ever, despite his soaked clothes and the water dripping from his dark fedora.

“Ryoji, what a pleasant surprise,” he said as he straightened his collar. “It seems it will only be the three of us having lunch together today.”

“Looks like it. Where have you been?”

“I was busy searching the streets of Lorient beyond the laundromat – as far as Monoblade would allow me, naturally. If you ever go out there, watch out: past a certain point, the ground is full of holes, it’s quite easy to get hurt.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Ryoji replied a little distantly.

Florian’s words had already made a mess of his head.

 _Don’t think about the streets of Lorient. You know what’s out there, you know what you must avoid. So don’t think about it,_ _d_ _on’t think about the view, don’t think about_ _it_ _, don’t think,_ _don’t think, don’t think_ _\- shit, I’m thinking about it, oh fuck, oh no, no no no no no-_

Ryoji covered his mouth with both hands, sweating intensely, repressing a painful grunt. The events replayed in his mind. Lucien was about to get executed. He was walking on the glass shards, he was being tied to the cross, Typhaine tried to protect him. Monoblade looked at Ryoji, he told him “it’s your turn now,” he handed him the hammer and nails-

_Don’t think don’t think don’t think don’t think-_

…

Ryoji breathed hard. The smell of his own sweat covered everything else – it disgusted him. He was shaking a little. How much time had passed? He was still standing up, and no one had rushed to his side. Florian and Gwenn were talking on the other side of the room, apparently oblivious to his struggle.

“Guys?” He asked weakly.

Gwenn and Florian turned around immediately, suddenly looking concerned. Ryoji noticed that Gwenn now had a pink flower in their hair – where had it come from?

“What’s going on?” They asked in worry. “Wait Ryo, are you okay?”

“I was just about to say, I’m going to sit in the other room,” Ryoji said, as if that cleared everything up. “Sorry.”

“What are you saying sorry for? Go ahead, do what you like. Your food will be ready soon.”

Ryoji gratefully left the room and went to sit at one of the tables. Laying his arms in front of him, he rested his forehead against his wrists.

_Why am I so weak? Why can’t I function like a normal person?_

Fighting the urge to cry, Ryoji took the time to breathe slowly, in and out. He eventually decided to stand back up again, because the smell of the wooden table was beginning to make him dizzy.

_Is this how_ _being a_ _dog fee_ _ls_ _? Poor things._

Gwenn came into the room, placing a plate of food on the table.

“There you go. Don’t wait for us, dig in!”

“There’s a flower in your hair,” Ryoji commented stupidly.

“Yeah, it was a gift from Florian. It’s called a primrose, did you know that? They usually only bloom in spring and summer, but this one is very late, clearly. Florian says he found it in some sort of damp cave, so that might explain it.”

“Finding flowers that aren’t supposed to bloom during the season… he really _is_ the ultimate florist, huh.”

“It’s my favorite flower too,” Gwenn added, almost shyly.

To which Ryoji naturally complimented Gwenn for having good taste, earning a blush from them in return. Florian later came out of the kitchen, carrying two extra plates and a bottle of wine.

 _“_ _Bon appétit tout le monde,”_ he said almost solemnly.

Ryoji’s mouth was too full for him to reply anything. Some time was spent in silence.

“Hey Florian,” Gwenn eventually said. “You mind showing me where you found the primrose bush? I’d be very curious to see it.”

Florian raised an eyebrow.

“Sure.”

“Thanks! We can go after we’ve finished our food. Hey Ryoji, you want to come with us?”

“Uh...” Ryoji hesitated. “I usually wouldn’t mind, but… I can’t really go over there.”

“… why?”

“I just can’t. Please don’t force me.”

“Okay, sorry, didn’t mean to rattle you. We’ll go on our own.”

“Have fun,” Ryoji replied, trying to control the trembling of his body.

  
  


**

  
  


Gwenn walked into the laundromat and hopped through the hole, their feet landing into a shallow puddle, instantly soaking their socks. They winced, but moved on.

“I think I understand why Ryoji refused to come with us,” Florian was saying as he walked through the hole carefully. “With the virus increasing his girth, he might no longer be able to fit through here – but admitting something like that would have been quite embarrassing.”

“I don’t think that’s it,” Gwenn replied absent-mindedly.

 _Could this town get any gloomier?_ Was the thought that crossed their mind.

Lorient had always been a rather sad wreck, but the rain and fog made it even worse. The collapsed buildings no longer seemed sharp, they looked like pieces of rotten plastic, dirty and useless. All the colors seemed to blend into some sort of bluish gray filter, like in some American TV show.

Gwenn walked a few steps. When they judged that they were far enough from the laundromat, they extended their hands and asked:

“Hey Monoblade, would you mind coming here for a second? I have a question regarding the rules of the killing game.”

Nothing happened.

“What are you doing?” Florian asked. “If you had a question, why didn’t you ask earlier?”

“I don’t really have a question, this was just a test.”

“Huh?”

“I was wondering if Monoblade could see us from here. Since we were never really supposed to go into this street, I told myself that they might have not installed any cameras – or at least not as many as they did everywhere else.”

“Oh,” Florian suddenly realized. “You’re not here to see flowers at all.”

“No, not really. But if I said ‘hey, how about we go discuss secrets where the kidnappers can’t hear us’, it would have been rather suspicious, don’t you think?”

“True. But if Monoblade’s not here… isn’t this rather odd? What will the kidnappers do if we try to escape?”

“I’d rather not try. Come on – just in case they’re watching us, lead me to those flowers. I’ll bring one back for Ryoji.”

“Sure thing.”

They walked side by side under the rain. Florian turned left, down a set of narrow stairs, then pointed to a partially collapsed brick wall.

“It’s inside. It used to be some apartment I think, but it’s been broken for a while. Maybe even before the war, I reckon.”

“It’s so pretty,” Gwenn noticed in surprise.

It was a square of dark dirt under a tall roof. The light poured in through little gaps in the walls, which looked like blue halos. The walls were covered with ivy, a mess of green and dark-red plants were growing everywhere. The primrose bush stood alone at the center, bathing in what little light the sky had to offer.

“So what is it you wanted to discuss?” Florian asked as Gwenn ventured inside the secret garden.

“Hm? Oh, right. I was thinking, isn’t it high time we escape from this awful place?”

“It would be appreciable indeed. I gave the subject some thought lately too.”

“Yeah?” (Gwenn bent down to reach the prettiest flower). “What were your thoughts on the question?”

“I thought that unless someone has an especially brilliant idea, it’s going to be extremely difficult to escape from here. I’m thinking about these metal claws that they always pull for the executions, for instance. How far can they reach? I pictured us running out into the streets, and being picked one by one like daisies.”

“Hm, that’s a good point. I don’t think they can go everywhere, but maybe it’s worth asking Monoblade.”

“It’s not the only problem, naturally. As you previously mentioned, there are all these cameras around the place, and the gas they often release to put us to sleep. We can only hold our breath for so long.”

“And the more time passes, the more people our kidnappers seem to hire,” Gwenn added. “It’s like we have an entire army against us.”

“True, that’s another problem. Besides, we have no vehicle that we could use to escape. Even if we somehow managed to bypass the cameras, avoid the soldiers, the traps and the sleeping gas, we’d still have to make our way on foot.”

“And our kidnappers have helicopters,” Gwenn agreed. “Well, we’ve only seen one so far, but it’s not much of a stretch to assume they have more.”

“Indeed. Now, we could always try to steal a helicopter, for instance if we ambushed the rescue team on its way to pick up the wounded. But none of us knows how to drive one of those.”

“And there’s always at least one soldier inside who carries a shotgun,” Gwenn completed. “Meanwhile, all we have are a few kitchen knives.”

“ _Voilà._ In other words, though an escape might not be completely impossible, it’d be foolish at best to even attempt it.”

Gwenn came out of the garden, cupping the flower in their hands.

“That’s what I originally thought too,” they admitted. “Our kidnappers are too powerful, and there’s too much that we don’t know about them. But then I switched my perspective a little, and I came up with an idea. Now, it might not work, but I figured it was worth a try.”

“You have my attention. How would you proceed?”

“Well the thing is, if we can’t escape on our own, maybe we could try to send a distress signal to the outside world instead. Maybe the reason rescue still hasn’t arrived is because they can’t find us?”

“I suppose we could try,” Florian reflected, stroking his non-existent beard. “The rules don’t forbid it, after all. Well, they don’t forbid it _yet,_ so maybe we should keep this idea a secret for now. But how exactly would you send a signal? It’s not like we have the necessary materials to launch a rocket in the air or something.”

“No, we don’t. But as I was thinking, we could simply start a fire.”

“Start a fire?” Florian repeated. “How would that help us?”

“A big fire makes a lot of smoke, which always attracts some attention. If we’re lucky, a nearby plane or boat might notice it and wonder what’s going on.”

“It’s… well, I suppose it’s not impossible,” Florian admitted uncertainly. “Desperate times call for desperate measures, I guess. What would we start a fire with?”

“We have the foundations of the shack, sitting useless in the parking lot. We have plenty of cardboard, some twigs and dead leaves, and we could burn the excessive furniture if we want the fire to last long.”

“I wonder if this is going to be enough.”

“Well, I could always ask Monoblade to buy me some gasoline,” Gwenn reflected.

“What? But then he would know all about your plan!”

“Not necessarily. He might assume I’m simply planning a murder. Not to mention, I checked the kitchen, and we don’t have any matches, so I’ll have to ask for a lighter at some point too.”

“Couldn’t you simply borrow Bob’s?”

“I tried to snatch it when I searched Ryoji’s room, but it’s out of fuel.”

“Now that’s bad luck.”

“You don’t say?”

“But even so, I don’t see how you could start a big fire in the parking lot without the others noticing. You’ll need to prepare everything carefully in advance, and I doubt the kidnappers would fail to realize what you’re trying to do either.”

“That’s… a good point.”

Gwenn looked a little defeated, but Florian put a hand on their shoulder, smiling.

“I think you should still try. Just be very upfront about it, and see if our kidnappers try to stop you.”

“But if they don’t try to stop me, then what? We’ll just know that the whole idea was pointless.”

“Not necessarily. Our kidnappers might deem the idea harmless, but they could always be wrong. We know they have a lot of power, but this whole organization might be run by an idiot for all we know.”

“I seriously doubt it.”

“Fine, me too. But what do we have to lose, after all?”

“I suppose you’re right,” Gwenn replied with a hesitant shrug. “I guess I’ll tell the others soon, maybe during the dinner meeting. We’re all desperate anyway, so I doubt anyone will object.”

  
  


**

  
  


Ryoji was walking under the rain again, his belly full of how stew and his cheeks a little red from the wine. He was on his way to meet Jordana, for two different reasons: firstly, because he was worried about her; secondly, because Gwenn and Florian had specifically requested that he ask her more about the killing game she had been through during her childhood. How it had ended was the big question.

“But how is she doing?” He had asked worriedly. “If her pain is too intense, I don’t want to bother her with my questions.”

“The thing is, she can’t really move on her own anymore,” Gwenn had explained uneasily. “I think she must be quite bored. She’ll probably be glad to see you, honestly.”

“She can’t move on her own? But then… how does she eat?”

“Typhaine takes care of her. Don’t ask too much, you don’t want to hear the specifics.”

Ryoji had blushed upon that last comment. Gwenn was right – he’d rather not know, if he could avoid it.

He knocked on the door out of sheer habit, before remembering that it was pointless.

“Hi,” he whispered as he got in, tip toeing shyly.

“Hey,” Jordana replied.

Her voice sounded a little off – as if even her vocal chords were turning to stone. Since the curtains were drawn, the room was mostly dark. Jordana’s body was covered by a white sheet, which looked awfully like a shroud. Her fists were tightly clenched, the only hint that her condition angered her greatly, for her face was perfectly serene.

“How… how do you feel?” Ryoji asked stupidly.

“It’s weird. Everything used to hurt, but I can’t really feel anything anymore. I’m terribly hungry though, but it’s not like I can do anything about that.”

“Well… that makes two of us.”

“Indeed. But I don’t want to talk about my condition. In fact, any form of distraction would be welcome, right now. It distracts from the pain _,_ _entiendes?_ So why don’t you tell me what happened to you? I see a new bandage on your head, so I assume things have gotten crazy again.”

In a few words, Ryoji told her about his previous night: how Magalie had threatened to kill him, what Bob had done, and how Rebecca had been forced to chase after him. He then moved on to the current day, and Gwenn’s idea to create a huge fire in the middle of the parking lot in order to send a distress signal.

“They already asked Monoblade to buy a lighter and a jerrycan of gasoline, but they will only arrive tomorrow I’ve been told.”

“A huge fire huh. Now that sounds like a great idea. I’m sure nothing is gonna go wrong at all.”

“You think we should give up on the plan?” Ryoji asked curiously.

“I don’t know, I’m just some woman in a bed. Why would my opinion matter?”

“Uh...”

“Don’t bother answering, that was a rhetorical question.”

“Oh. Right.”

There was a short moment of silence, until Ryoji remembered he was supposed to ask an important question.

“Say, how did your… other killing game end? Did you and the other participants eventually manage to escape? Did someone come to rescue you?”

“Oh, none of that. I simply won.”

Ryoji’s left eye twitched almost imperceptibly.

“You won?”

“I was the only survivor, thus becoming the one and true winner. It was a big error by the way. The game was rigged, I wasn’t really supposed to win. My mom was, but she sacrificed herself for me, so that went out of the window.”

“Huh? Hold on, you’re going too fast, I can’t follow!”

“Fine. I’ll rewind things a bit. This whole thing started out as a textbook vendetta story.I come from a family of rich smugglers, who had upset another family of rich smugglers. From what I remember, the feud had been going on for generations, though I don’t really remember the specifics, since I was a bit too young for it at the time.”

“Okay, I think I get it. Was the other family responsible for orchestrating the killing game?”

“You bet it was. Now, it would have been easier to slaughter us one by one, I suppose, but I assume they wanted us to go through a bit of emotional torture first. Also, the mastermind had a thing for my mother – and by a thing I mean a big, thick, crush. And the convenient thing about killing games, as you already know, is that there’s at least one survivor by the end.”

“So the game was rigged,” Ryoji understood. “The mastermind made it look like anyone could win, but she was meant to be the winner all along! But wait… I thought your killing game was vote based. How can you rig that? Did he cheat on the results?”

“Well… how do I explain? Did you ever play werewolf, Ryoji?”

“Huh? Yeah I did, but… what does that have to do with anything?”

“Think about it. Werewolf is a game where every player is assigned a role, then has to undergo a voting event, during which one of the player gets executed. But the roles interfere with that: some people have special powers, and can use them to turn the game in their favor. Imagine that we played real life werewolf, with different rules.”

“That’s so… twisted,” Ryoji said in disgust.

“That’s how the game was rigged. My mom always had the good cards in her hand – she could never lose, unless she sacrificed herself willingly.”

“She must have loved you a lot.”

“I suppose,” Jordana replied neutrally. “I don’t remember her all that well.”

Ryoji knew that was a lie, but said nothing.

“I know it’s disappointing,” Jordana continued. “I wish I could say we beat the mastermind at his own game and found a way to escape, but that’s just not what happened. All of my family was killed. The police arrived far too late, and they couldn’t save anyone.”

Ryoji shivered. He imagined himself in Jordana’s position, as the winner of the killing game, standing on a pile of corpses. He imagined himself killing someone and getting away with it. How could anyone move on in their life after that? What could there possibly be in the world for them, aside from madness and misery?

“So yeah, that’s my sad story,” Jordana said in a dull tone. “I feel like if I had told it to all of you from the get go, a lot of stupid interactions could have been easily avoided.”

“Don’t beat yourself too hard. None of us knew how to deal with this situation. Nothing in life can prepare you for a killing game.”

“True that. Still, I’m glad I survived this long so I could be your friend.”

“Whu-”

Ryoji began to blush, making Jordana smile.

“That’s a very nice thing to say,” he commented shyly, hiding behind his hoodie. “To think I’m talking to a celebrity right now...”

“Oh, that’s right. Sometimes I forget you’re a huge fanboy. It’s quite hilarious all things said and done.”

“Yeah, sorry. I’m not used to this, that’s all.”

“To what? Having friends?”

“Yeah.”

Jordana blinked.

“I was joking, but all right. Sounds like there’s a sad story that needs to be told, here.”

“Uh...”

“Go ahead if you feel like it. I told you about my childhood, and it’s not like I’m going anywhere.”

“There’s not much to tell though. When I was a child, the other kids didn’t like me very much. I was tall, and fat, and a little weird, and I liked to play with girls, so I guess I was asking for it.”

He let out a bit of a hollow chuckle. Jordana frowned.

“Hey Ryo, that’s not asking for it, you know that, right? You’re allowed to be different, it’s not a crime.”

“Of course, I was just joking,” he said hastily. “Anyway, I was bullied quite a lot, not only at school, but also at home… my brothers were quite mean, and my mom didn’t care. So I just assumed it was the natural order of things, you know? I figured I must be missing something that other people had.”

“You thought it was your fault,” Jordana understood.

“Exactly. Still, it’s not like _everyone_ hated me – but people avoided me. They didn’t want to hang out with the weird loner kid, just in case people might associate them with me. Their reputation would be ruined.”

Ryoji wiped his eyes.

“Every now and then, I would meet a person who… if not _nice,_ acted decent with me. I had such low standards, I considered people who tolerated my presence to be actual saints. I would usually get very excited about it, I thought we could be besties, you know? So I would follow them everywhere. I’d never leave them alone, I’d buy gifts for them, I would tell them everything about my life, until my smothering affection would become so completely unbearable that they’d kick me out… like a dog. And the cycle would resume.”

Jordana didn’t say anything. She didn’t want to interrupt the story. It angered her beyond reason that she couldn’t even get up to place a hand on his shoulder. Her body had felt like a prison since her sickness began, but she had never hated it with such intensity before.

“I just wanted to be loved, y’know,” Ryoji continued, oblivious to her pain. “But all I did was develop some nasty abandonment issues. Even to this day, I’m a very high-maintenance friend – because if I don’t hear from people frequently enough, I begin to panic, thinking that they have abandoned me.”

“But for how long did this cycle last?” Jordana asked, neutrally.

“Until my final year in middle-school. I met a group of goth teens in high school, they were all in the same band. They were very weird and they were proud of it, the kind of people who’d do anything to stand out from a crowd. They kept me around because I was so socially awkward that they found me hilarious. To be honest, they didn’t treat me very well, but I was so grateful to have some friends that I didn’t even realize. At least I existed, you know?”

“I can’t really imagine,” Jordana admitted.

“I guess you wouldn’t, being a superstar and stuff. But that was my life.”

He scratched his hair and gazed toward the window bashfully.

“Ah, sorry, I didn’t mean to ramble. I’ll see myself out, okay? I-if you don’t mind, of course.”

“Don’t feel embarrassed, Ryo. I’m glad you trusted me with your story. Thank you for that moment.”

She couldn’t raise her head from the pillow, but she did her best to smile at him. Ryoji’s heart almost melted from the unexpected kindness. He lost himself in an awkward babble before exiting the room, completely red and sweaty. After having closed the door, he rested his back against it, and let himself slide down until he ended up sitting on the floor.

“… Ryo, are you okay?”

He opened his eyes to notice Typhaine, carrying a bowl of (surprise!) soup in her hands. She was looking at him with a concerned expression.

“I’m fine, it’s just that… you know, emotions can be tough sometimes. But I’m really grateful for my friends at times like these. I love you all. I love you Typhaine.”

She eyed him suspiciously.

“Are you drunk?”

“I don’t think so. Oh wait, maybe a little. I had a glass of wine for lunch.”

“Ah, I see,” she said, sounding a little disappointed. “Why don’t you go have a shower, Ryoji? You smell a little like a wet dog.”

“Yes chief,” he replied with a military salute.

He tried to get up, but had to grab the door handle to prevent himself from falling. His knees felt a little weak. As he awkwardly trotted toward the water room, Typhaine called out to him.

“By the way Ryo?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you too!”

And she disappeared inside Jordana’s room, leaving Ryoji standing alone in a hallway, feeling like a very happy awkward idiot.

  
  


  
  


**

  
  


  
  


The helicopter landed in the parking lot again the following evening. It had stopped raining by that point, and having had two showers, five meals and a nap, Ryoji anxiously waited for the doors to open. Rebecca was the first to come out, looking like she had been beaten up by a group of thugs wielding metal bats. The sleeves of her prison uniform were ripped at the shoulders, and Ryoji wasn’t sure if it had been done preemptively for the sake of aesthetic, or if Rebecca was directly responsible for the change. He didn’t dare ask.

“Hi,” she said, sounding tired. “I brought your boyfriend back.”

It was only as she talked that Ryoji noticed she was missing a tooth. He opened his mouth to thank her, but before he could, Bob appeared in his sight. If Rebecca looked beaten up, Bob looked like he had been run over by a truck. There were cuts and bruises all over his body, and a thick bandage around his right knee. Moreover, his wrists were shackled, and there was a muzzle on his face. Ryoji’s eyes widened in shock.

“Bob,” he whispered in anguish. “What happened to you?”

“I’m sorry for the muzzle, but trust me, he’s better with it,” Rebecca warned. “He tried to bite me so many times while we were in the hospital that I had to request it.”

Ryoji could barely hear her. All he could see was his boyfriend, his face scrunched with rage, lost to his insanity. He understood that Bob was beyond him – there were so many discrepancies between what he saw and what Ryoji saw that they might as well be from a different universe entirely. A wall had been erected between them, and Ryoji wanted nothing more than to throw himself at it, punch it with his bare hands until it would finally break. But you couldn’t punch an illness out of someone, you couldn’t fight the hallucinations from the outside, you couldn’t magically heal them with a hug either.

“Thank you for bringing him back,” he heard himself saying, nearly choking on his own words.

“You’re welcome,” Rebecca replied. “It wasn’t easy, and I saw some crazy things down there.”

“Like what?”

“I’ll tell you when everyone’s here. I think they’ll all want to hear it. But first-” (she grabbed Bob’s arm and aggressively pressed him close to her) “-we have to find him a room.”

“Right. Uh… should we put him in one of the apartment suites?”

“Works for me.”

They crossed through the restaurant and walked up the stairs. Gwenn and Florian, who had already been sitting at one of the tables (playing cards) watched them go with confusion painted on their faces. Rebecca ignored them and moved as fast as she could. Bob tried to shake free on several occasion, but she wouldn’t let him go. Her grip on his arm was iron, and would probably leave a rather nasty bruise. The prospect made Ryoji wince.

Rebecca opened the door, dragged Bob inside, then took out a key from her pocket, and unshackled him. He immediately seized the occasion and punched her several times, but Rebecca ignored the assault, and didn’t release him. She dragged him to the bedroom, then shackled one of his wrists to the bed.

“There,” she said with satisfaction, taking a few steps back. “That should hold him in place, but we should lock the front door too just in case.”

“Is that really necessary?” Ryoji asked uneasily.

“Of course it it! It’s the Furantur, dammit. Look at him Ryo, look at him for five seconds, don’t you realize how dangerous that stupid virus is?”

“I get it, I get it,” he said defensively. “But I wouldn’t want to be pointlessly cruel, that’s it.”

“Letting the virus out is what would be pointlessly cruel. I don’t want to take any chances.”

Her tone was hard, serious and remorseless. Ryoji was shocked by her determination.

“Come on now, we need to talk with the others,” she said, beginning to turn around.

“But wait, we haven’t taken out his muzzle yet-”

“Don’t touch him,” she warned. “In fact, don’t come near him at all, you hear me?”

“Okay, okay, sorry,” Ryoji replied hastily, melting under her authority.

“It’s okay,” she said with a sigh. “I’m just a little on edge. I’ve touched Bob more than once by now, so I know that there’s a high chance I’m infected too. And it really sucks.”

“It’s all my fault,” Ryoji realized. “Because I told Monoblade to open your door, you had to be in this horrible situation...”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

Ryoji tried to explain himself.

“Before he escaped, Bob attacked me, and I was unconscious for a while. When I woke up, Monoblade told me that he would warn one person about what had happened, and that I could choose who it was. So… I chose you. But because of me-”

“Bob was saved. Ryoji come on, what else could you have done? You were injured, so it’s not like you could have run after him yourself. And if you had chosen Gwenn or Florian instead of me, how would that have made the situation any better? I had to fight him down there, more than once. We both almost drowned into the sewers. It hurt, and it was cold and gross, and I hated it, but I know it had to be me, because if it had been Gwenn or Florian, they wouldn’t have won the fight, and Bob could have died. So even though it’s unfair to me, you have to give yourself some credit for making the right choice, Ryo.”

“But...”

“No buts. Come on now, we have to tell the others what happened, and I’d like to eat something while I’m at it.”

  
  


**

  
  


Rebecca had dinner with Gwenn, Florian and Typhaine (though she kept a safe distance from them, and no one dared touch anything she had previously touched). During that time, she explained how she had chased after Bob, and told the group about what she had seen in the underworld: the overflowed mines, the ruins, the warehouse, and the factory. After the group had shared a few theories concerning what use there could be in building an army of robots, Gwenn updated Rebecca on the recent news. They told her about Florian’s sister, the worrying progress of Jordana’s illness, and their idea regarding the big fire project.

Ryoji could barely concentrate on the conversation. He knew that he was missing on important information, but he was too tired to actually care. His mind kept wandering toward frivolous subjects, like the funny-shaped stains on the ceiling that reminded him of his favorite animals. If someone asked him, he would blame his increased sense of smell for his unusual tiredness, and consequent lack of focus. Each room he walked into was an army of angry smells on their way to rape his nose. There was no way to get used to it.

“We’ll start the preparations by tomorrow,” Gwenn was saying, somewhere far away. “Naturally, it will only be Florian and me, since the rest of you are either sick, or...”

“Potentially sick?” Rebecca completed.

“Exactly.”

“So we have to lock her up, just like Bob?” Typhaine asked.

“It would be logical, yes,” Florian replied, cleaning his glasses. “Where would you like to be imprisoned?” He added with a hint of bitter sarcasm.

“Same place as before I suppose, doesn’t matter all that much. Who’ll bring me food though?”

“I will,” Gwenn volunteered.

They turned around to face Ryoji.

“You heard that Ryo? I’ll be taking your old job, so that means I need to grab your key ring.”

“Huh?”

Ryoji had half fallen asleep on the table. He realized everyone was staring at him – had he missed something important?

“Uh… you want something?”

“Yes,” Gwenn repeated patiently. “The key ring.”

“Oh, sure, I’ll go get that for you.”

A two-way run through the parking lot later, Ryoji was back in the restaurant, dropping the key ring on the table.

“There you go,” he said as he stifled a yawn. “If you want some help with making breakfast, I usually wake up around nine.”

“Oh, that’s kind of you, but I’ll be awake much earlier than that,” Gwenn replied with a smile. “Come on now Ryo, go take some rest. You deserve it.”

Ryoji nodded and left. He didn’t meet anyone on his way to his room. His large body collapsing on the mattress, he was snoring within five minutes.

  
  


**

  
  


Somewhere, deep under the earth, a door opened. A woman walked inside some office, wearing a completely dark uniform along with sunglasses. She was carrying a large box which she placed on the desk.

“Sandra,” the man sitting on the chair complained. “You should have knocked.”

“My bad,” the woman replied. “I kinda lost the habit lately. Perks of working on the field I guess.”

“I assume people don’t answer your knocks very often?”

“I usually bust the door down,” she replied with a shrug. “Anyway, my team has managed to gather the last files we needed for the redemption project. I wanted to send them to the lab guys right away, but Gilles said I should run them by you first, just to make sure they’re legit.”

The man in front of her opened the box. Inside was a green plastic binder full of loose papers and photos. It looked no near as dark and mysterious as the rest of the room, or the people in it. It looked very ordinary, and in fact, it was. Inside was a collection of letters, e-mails, newspaper articles, notes and other such reports concerning a young individual’s life during the year 2003. The word “RIVE” was written on the side of the box.

The man took the binder, and began to flip through the pages.

“It’s incomplete,” he commented after fifteen minutes of careful inspection.

“Indeed. We tried our best to retrieve all the documents, but some of them have been damaged, and are permanently unreadable.”

“Bring them to me anyway. I’ll see if my little experts can’t decipher a word or two.”

“Sure thing.”

The man got up from his chair and bowed.

“Thank you once again for your excellent work, Sandra. I have yet to run a few tests, but the documentation appears to be genuine. I have no doubt that the first subject should be operational within a couple days.”

Sandra replied to the compliment with a polite gesture, before leaving the room quietly. The man sat back on his office chair, smiling to himself as he perused the contents of the binder.

“I truly can’t wait,” he muttered to himself in delight. “I truly can’t wait to see their faces, when they finally understand. When everything begins to make sense.”

He grabbed one of the photos and brought it close to his face, removing his glasses so he could see it better.

“Look at that smile… won’t it be great to bring it back to life?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 5, also named "the one part where I remembered to give my characters some backstory". Anyway, hope you enjoyed the chapter, folks! Don't hesitate to leave a comment, it's free serotonin!


	55. Teamwork

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait guys! The following chapters should be coming along a bit quicker from now on.

Ryoji was dreaming. He was back in elementary school, surrounded by his former classmates. The only difference was that he was still in his adult form, while all the ones that surrounded him were little children. They were pointing their fingers at him, laughing and insulting him. It wasn’t very hurtful however, perhaps because he couldn’t hear what they were saying very well. There was another noise which blocked all others, some kind of distant whistle.

Suddenly Ryoji was standing on a nearby hill, and the school was on fire. The children were yelling in pain and terror, running in every direction, soon to be killed by soldiers. What was going on? Somehow everything felt distant, sufficiently unreal for Ryoji not to feel affected, but only mildly surprised.

He fell on his back, though he wasn’t sure why. Someone was grabbing his wrist rather brutally, and pinning him to the ground by pressing their other hand on his chest. He couldn’t see their face – they were no more than a two-eyed shadow.

_Wake up!_

Something stung Ryoji’s wrist, sending a shock of intense pain through his body. Shouting in surprise, he woke up in fear and confusion, blinking in the darkness. He had no idea what was going on. His head felt heavy, his breath was short, and he suddenly remembered that he was hungry.

_That’s not important right now. Where are you? What’s going on?_

Rubbing his eyes, Ryoji forced himself to get out of bed. He waddled toward the wall, bumped his head against it, then hit it at random, hoping to find the switch. The lights turned on, nearly blinding him. Covering his face with both arms, he waited for his eyes to adjust themselves. When it was done, he inspected his bedroom, trying to understand what had happened.

The door was slightly ajar, and the floor was a little wet and muddy, as if someone had recently walked into the room after being outside under the rain.

_But is it even raining?_

Ryoji walked toward the windows and opened the curtains. Yes, it was raining.

“Uh… is someone here?” He called out uncertainly.

No reply came. Whoever had come into his room, they had already left.

“Okay… weird.”

Ryoji kept searching his room, but didn’t find anything strange, until he looked under his bed. There he found a little syringe, about the size of a pencil. It was empty. Recalling the pain in his arm, the stinging sensation which had woke him up, Ryoji rolled up his sleeve and inspected his skin.

There was indeed a little puncture wound near his shoulder.

“Huh? What’s that?”

The gears were slowly working in his brain, extracting the obvious answer from all the clues he had just found. Someone had tried to murder him in his sleep. Someone had broken into his room after being under the rain, and had planted a syringe in his vein-

“Oh crap!” He shouted in horror. “I’ve been poisoned!”

His first reflex was to rush out of his room, but quickly he understood that he didn’t know where to go. If he had indeed been poisoned, what could he possibly do about it? It wasn’t like the facility had any antidotes, and in order to take the right antidote, he would need to know what kind of poison had been injected in his blood.

His second reflex was to call Monoblade, but the little robot didn’t seem to be worried. He made fun of Ryoji’s panic, and refused to call the helicopter. When the young man showed him the syringe, the robot pointed out that it was empty.

“I know it’s empty! It’s because they injected the poison in my veins!”

“No, that’s not what I meant. When you fill up a syringe with something, then empty it, there’s usually a few droplets left inside, even microscopic ones. But there aren’t any in that one, because it has never been used. You can trust me, my eyes work as magnifying glass.”

Ryoji was a little reassured after the discussion, but not completely, so he woke up Jordana to confirm Monoblade’s words. She ordered him to show her his arm, and after a thorough inspection of his skin, concluded that the syringe hadn’t touched any veins.

“It looks like it wasn’t used to inject something in your blood, rather just to stab you. I have no idea why anyone would do that though.”

“Are you sure I haven’t been poisoned though? Like absolutely sure?”

“No, I’m not absolutely sure… but there aren’t any poisons here, are there? If I recall, we got rid of it all.”

“Well… me and Florian tossed them down the sewers when we investigated the 3rd floor a few days ago, but Florian suspected that someone had already stolen something back then, so I can’t be sure.”

“Hm. Well since there’s nothing we can do about it, I suggest you just trust Monoblade’s eyesight and go back to bed.”

“Seriously? But… but what if-”

“I don’t know Ryoji. I don’t know. Maybe you can try to search the labs a bit, see where the syringe came from? Maybe that will give you a clue.”

Ryoji decided to do exactly as Jordana said, but realized he had to eat something first. In the restaurant, he found Typhaine, who had apparently as much trouble sleeping as he did. After they both ate something, Typhaine agreed to help him with his search. They went through each of the science labs in the facility, which meant waking up Gwenn to grab the keys, and later Rebecca to get into the virus room. Thankfully neither of them minded, and instead agreed to help on the search.

They found plenty of syringes, but none of them that looked like the one Ryoji had found in his room. No hint that any other syringe had been used either.

“Okay, that’s weird,” Gwenn admitted. “Maybe whoever used that syringe just hid or destroyed all the similar syringes they could find in the process?”

“Which means they’re down in the sewers by now,” Rebecca groaned in frustration.

“How are you feeling Ryoji?” Typhaine asked. “Do you feel nauseous? Cold? Hot? Do you have a stomachache?”

“No, I’m fine for now,” Ryoji admitted. “But what if it’s a slow-acting poison?”

“It’s still possible,” Rebecca asserted. “Let’s not give up on the search. Follow me!”

“But uh… you can’t leave the 3rd floor, remember?” Gwenn said awkwardly.

“Oh, right. Well, go on without me then.”

Next they searched the elevator rooms, and opened each of the crates and boxes which had been placed there randomly as gifts, but none contained any syringes.

“Enjoying yourselves?” Monoblade teased, hanging from the ceiling.

“Shut up,” Gwenn commanded. “We don’t want to see you now.”

“Fine, fine, keep looking, maybe you’ll stumble across it eventually, who knows!”

At which point they decided to give up, and went back to bed. As a consequence, everyone was really tired when breakfast time came, especially Gwenn who had had to wake up earlier to feed everyone.

“Bob is a savage,” they said grumpily upon serving each of their classmates a helping of fruit salad. “I found him on all fours, growling at me like a dog! He nearly ripped my pants off!”

“Yikes,” Typhaine commented.

“What about you Ryoji?” Florian asked. “Are you all right? I was told about your nightly ordeal.”

“I’m still okay,” Ryoji replied with a nervous glance behind his back. “Let’s hope it lasts.”

“Sure thing,” Gwenn said with a yawn. “Shit, I know I said I would make the preparations for the fire this morning, but I think I’m going to have a nap after this. Sorry guys.”

“That’s okay, we’ll all get together and work on it after lunch!” Typhaine suggested.

“We certainly can,” Florian agreed. “By the way, I am sorry to inform you all that I have bad news.”

“More bad news?” Gwenn complained. “What is it this time?”

“It’s not… a direct threat to any of us, technically speaking. I think.”

Florian looked uneasy.

“But… how should I put this? Ferdinand’s grave has been destroyed.”

“It has… what now?” Gwenn repeated with a blink.

“During the night, someone used… a tool of some sort, I’m not sure which, and destroyed his bust, by repeatedly hitting it. It’s in pieces now, and the inscription on the plinth is unreadable. Worse even, this mysterious person even took the time to pull out all the flowers which had been growing around it!”

“Oh no, that’s awful!” Typhaine shouted. “Who could do something like this?”

“Who?” Gwenn repeated. “Are you serious? It’s obviously Magalie.”

“You think she’d go that far?” Ryoji asked in disbelief. “But she used to care so much about him...”

“And yet she insulted his name yesterday, more than once, and called me a fool when I tried to talk some sense into her. I’m honestly not even surprised at this point.”

“But if what you say is true, she’s gone far beyond the limits of our tolerance,” Florian objected, clearly scandalized. “It’s one thing to be emotionally unstable, but to disturb the dead in such a disgusting fashion! It’s… shameful!”

“I’ll try to talk to her,” Ryoji decided. “I don’t understand what she’s going through, but maybe if I go about it softly, she’ll finally open up to me. She must feel so lost, so alone… we can’t leave her like this.”

“Feel free to try,” Gwenn replied with a shrug. “But if it doesn’t work, we’ll just have to be more aggressive about it. She has to understand that some rules just can’t be broken.”

“We’re still not sure it’s her,” Typhaine argued timidly.

“Come on Typh, who else could it be? Rebecca’s locked up, so is Bob, and Jordana can’t move. You, Ryo and me were together most of the time last night, and Florian would never do something like this!”

“It still feels wrong to accuse her without proof,” Typhaine insisted (though quietly).

“Well-”

Gwenn was clearly getting angry, but Florian cut them by raising one hand.

“Typhaine is right. It would be more proper to ask Magalie to confirm our suspicions first. Judging from her past behavior however, I doubt she will even try to deny it.”

“I’ll go talk to her,” Ryoji repeated. “And everything will be fine.”

But later when he visited Magalie’s room, she refused to speak to him. For once she didn’t look angry, but rather sad and tired. She remained on her bed, hiding behind her mask, and completely ignored all of his questions. Ryoji chose to stay with her for fifteen minutes, wondering if she would ever open up. When it became clear that she wouldn’t, he decided to leave.

The afternoon was dedicated to the preparations of the fire. Florian and Gwenn did most of the heavy lifting, moving the biggest pieces of furniture. Ryoji would have been glad to help, but it was dangerous to get too close, so he moved little pieces of cardboard instead. By the end of the day, Florian led him to a specific part of the garden, and commanded him to cut some of the young trees.

“But why?” Ryoji asked. “Don’t we have enough burning material already?”

“They’re dying anyway,” Florian explained. “The soil isn’t rich enough, which is why they’re so dry. They’ll burn rather well.”

Ryoji was tasked to cut the wood in little segments, roughly forty centimeters in length, which he placed in a stack. Florian later came back, and taught him how to bind them together with little pieces of rope.

Unfortunately, when they were finally getting ready, it started to rain again. Retreating back inside the restaurant, they all had dinner together, and agreed to light the fire on the next day. They spent their evening discussing what they would like to do if they could escape from the killing game, then played cards (Florian won almost systematically). Ryoji visited Bob once before going to bed, and found his boyfriend sulking on his bed.

_At least he isn’t attacking me._

“I love you,” he whispered into the darkness.

“Get out, ya fuckin’ monster,” Bob spat.

And on that sweet note, Ryoji went to sleep.

  
  


**

  
  


He was dreaming again. This time he was walking home from school, but instead of finding his family, it was Monoblade who made a snack for him, and asked him about his day.

“Well, we made a fire,” Ryoji explained. “But it was raining, so it didn’t work very well. I also learned to tie a knot.”

“Very interesting,” Monoblade replied, putting a flower pot on Ryoji’s table. “Come one now, sonny. Eat!”

“My dad never called me sonny. He used to call me ‘R’.”

“Did he now? Well, that’s probably a sign that you need to wake up. Because a body has been discovered! Everyone’d better gather up in the parking lot!”

“What?” Ryoji shouted.

But his dream was already falling apart, and as the scenery promptly turned to dust, Ryoji opened his eyes and breathed in.

“Come on now, get out of bed, fatty!” Shouted the real Monoblade, who was apparently standing on his bed. “Now’s not the time to be lazy!”

The lights were on and the door was open, though Ryoji was certain he had locked it before going to bed. More importantly…

“What did you say? What’s going on?”

“It’s a body, you bird brain! A corpse! _Un putain de cadavre!_ Now if I were you, I’d use those fat legs of mine and rush to the parking lot.”

Ryoji was no longer listening. Barely taking the time to get dressed, he ran outside of his room, surprised to run into Magalie, who had apparently just woken up.

“Oh hey Ryo,” she said neutrally. “I heard someone had been killed again, it’s horrible, huh? I’m glad it wasn’t you though. Because I’m the one who’s going to kill you, and I’d be terribly upset if-”

“I don’t have time for this!” Ryoji shouted, almost angrily.

He rushed toward the elevator room, then turned right, and nearly ran into the wall as he tried to get to the scene as fast as he could. His beating heart actually hurt his chest, and his throat felt icy. It wasn’t raining.

_Who is it? Who died this time? What happened? Please let it not be Bob, I beg you world, anyone but Bob, please-!_

“Ryo!” Someone shouted. “Over here!”

Gwenn was standing close to the restaurant’s entrance, waving at him. Ryoji suddenly felt his legs turn to jelly, and realized he was unable to run. Suddenly, the last few meters he needed to cross before he met with Gwenn seemed to distort and expand, making it an impossible task. He felt like a bubble of air was stuck in his throat, rendering incapable of breathing. Yet he pressed forward, one hand clutched around his torso, creasing the fabric of his shirt.

“Who is it?” He asked, unable to recognize his own voice.

It was as if he were very far, drifting away from his own body, a little further with each step.

Gwenn didn’t reply, so Ryoji had to see for himself. And looking down, he saw. Her body rested in a puddle of blood, but it had been mixed with dirt, and looked a lot like mud. Her eyes were wide open, as if she had died of shock rather than any wound. Her mouth had closed around her tongue, almost chopping it in half, and the loose end hung sadly from her jaw, blood trickling down her chin.

A dead body on the ground between two broken tables, dead eyes locked toward the sky, one leg bent at an impossible angle.

“It’s not...” Ryoji began. “It’s not real.”

“It is,” Florian said, placing one hand on his shoulder in sympathy. “Rebecca is dead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rebecca's death portrait: https://imgur.com/a/gAho07P
> 
> So as you may know, I only post the BDA chapter after I've at least completed the first draft of the trial, in case I need to go back and change some things. It's just that trial 5 has been a lot of work so far, but I'm getting there! Brace yourselves!


	56. Healing

Ryoji couldn’t understand what Florian was telling him. He heard his words, but refused to listen to them. Rebecca couldn’t possibly have died, it made absolutely no sense. She was a strong person, who could possibly beat her in a fight? Besides, she was supposed to be locked up, on the 3rd floor of the research facility – she had no business being down on the ground in the parking lot. There must be a mistake somewhere.

He was vaguely aware that some people were screaming around him. Grieving probably.

 _Unlucky,_ he thought. _They don’t know that she isn’t really dead. What a surprise it’ll be when she gets up and tells_ _them_ _that everything’s fine!_

Ryoji realized someone was calling his name.

“Yes?” He said a little too late.

“Ryoji, what are we going to do?”

“Huh?”

Ryoji turned around. Gwenn was staring at him with a worried expression. Their lower lip was trembling a little.

“What should we do?” They asked again. “I… do we have to investigate? What should we start with?”

 _Why are you asking me?_ Ryoji thought.

He had no idea what to answer. He didn’t see the need to fix a problem that didn’t exist. Thankfully, Typhaine violently grabbed Gwenn’s hand and pulled them toward her, sparing him from having to think of an appropriate answer.

“Gwenn!” She squeaked. “You have to start the fire!”

“The… huh?”

“The fire!” She insisted, brutally shaking him. “The signal that is going to save us, remember?”

“Of course I remember, but what the hell are you saying?” Gwenn retorted angrily. “There’s been a _murder._ We have to investigate!”

“No Gwenn, you don’t understand. They’ll force us to do another class trial, and then they’ll kill someone else, and there will only be six of us left! We can’t let that happen. Look up! Look at the sky!”

Gwenn looked up, and Ryoji followed their glare. The sky was mostly clear, the sun was barely up, turning the night sky a nice purple shade. He had no idea what he was supposed to see.

“I don’t see anything,” Gwenn said, mirroring his thoughts.

“Look better, there’s a plane here!” Typhaine insisted. “That’s why you must light the fire now, so they can come to rescue us! Quick, do it before the class trial!”

“Typhaine, it’s...”

Gwenn repressed a sob.

“It’s never going to work. The plane is too high-”

“I don’t care! Just do it!”

She released them and looked around herself.

“I’ll go grab the gasoline and the lighter!” She promised. “Stay here and make sure everything’s ready!”

“Hold up young lady,” Monoblade said, casually walking out of the restaurant. “Isn’t there something you’re forgetting?”

“Out of my way!” Typhaine commanded, balling her fists in anger.

“Not yet, sweetie, there’s a little thing we must sort out before you start running around like a crazy woman.”

“What is it?” Florian asked.

“It doesn’t concern you, flower boy. It’s just that I promised a cure in exchange for a murder, and since there’s _definitely_ been a murder, I might as well keep my promise. I originally planned to keep this little cure trip for after the murder, but since Jordana might die any second now, I figured it’d be smarter to have it right now. So that’s to say: get on the fucking helicopter.”

Ryoji looked up. The helicopter was indeed approaching the campus. It would be there soon.

“Wait, what about the investigation?” Gwenn asked in fright. “If they’re not here to investigate, then-”

“Relax, your friends will have plenty of time to investigate when they come back. You and flower boy can get a head start if you like, but take your time! No need to hurry. Why don’t you go rest in your room? Have a nap, think about your future. Have a fresh drink and come back.”

Gwenn let out a frustrated sigh, and walked inside the restaurant. Ryoji followed them – if they were to board the helicopter, then they’d better release Bob first.

But when they reached the 2nd floor, they found the door barred. A wooden plank had been hastily nailed to the wall, making it impossible to pull the door open. The lock itself had been busted.

“The hell?” Gwenn muttered.

Ryoji let out a cry of surprise. Backing down a few steps, he sat against the wall and wailed, covering his arms. Gwenn looked very confused for a while, before remembering the man’s fear of nails.

_If they remind him of a crucifixion, no wonder he’s panicking._

“Ah, Ryo, why don’t you… go hide in the stairs for a bit? I’ll call you when I’m done.”

Ryoji nodded and promptly fled. Gwenn took out their crowbar and began to unscrew the nails one by one. Surprisingly enough, the four of them were loose, and came out pretty easily.

“Odd,” they muttered under their breath.

Hiding the nails inside their pocket, they called Ryoji back. The tall man quickly came back, and both students stood in front of the door, neither too eager to open it.

“Get ready,” Gwenn warned. “Logically he should still be cuffed, but now I’m just not so sure anymore.”

“Maybe he’s not even in there anymore,” Ryoji theorized.

“Now that’d be a surprise. Let’s just… hope for the best.”

Gwenn pulled the door open. Bob was no longer cuffed, but he was in no position to fight the newcomers either. In fact, he was lying unconscious, and for a short moment, both students believed he was dead. But a quick investigation of Bob’s pulse revealed that he was breathing.

“Oh thank goodness!” Ryoji cried in anguish.

“Still, what the hell happened here? This place...”

The room was a mess. There were a few severed ropes on the floor, and torn bits of duct tape dangling from the nearest wall. The window that led to the parking lot had been shattered, and the wind was coming in, cooling down the temperature.

Ryoji didn’t care about any of that. He cradled Bob in his arms, making sure to hold him in place firmly. He caressed his cheek tenderly, pushed the hair out of his eyes, made sure he was breathing properly.

“Ryo...” Gwenn started.

“What is it?”

“This is still a murder trial. We should have taken a picture of the scene first.”

Ryoji froze.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“It’s fine. I guess I’ll begin my investigation here. You… why don’t you go board that helicopter with the others?”

“Okay.”

Ryoji tried to find a comfortable position for Bob to rest in, then forced his weak knees to lift them both up, and left the room. Behind him, Gwenn was methodically taking pictures of the crime scene. Ryoji knew that he should have taken a better look at it, but he couldn’t concentrate. His brain was still trying to comprehend Rebecca’s murder, to acknowledge her loss. He wasn’t ready to track down her killer just yet.

When he reached the parking lot, he didn’t find one, but two helicopters. Typhaine and Magalie were already inside the left one. They were flanked by two soldiers wearing surgical masks.

“What’s going on?” Ryoji asked.

“Get in,” one of the soldiers ordered. “But put the Furantur guy down first.”

“Huh?”

“He’s not coming with us.”

“Why?” Ryoji asked, cradling his boyfriend protectively.

He wasn’t sure, but it seemed to him like the soldier was wincing behind his mask.

“How can you touch him like that?” He asked in pure disgust. “Don’t you know… never mind.”

Two special agents came to take Bob from Ryoji’s arms. They were wearing special suits which covered their whole bodies. It made them look a little like astronauts. They boarded the second helicopter, which took off right away.

“What about Jordana?” Ryoji asked curiously.

“She’ll have her own helicopter too,” the second soldier explained.

“Come on now, get in,” the other said impatiently. “But don’t get close to me.”

“Yes sir,” Ryoji replied mechanically.

**

  
  


Ryoji was told to take off his clothes and to put on a hospital gown. The doctor first took his measurements and made him step on the scale. Ryoji didn’t look at the number, and the doctor didn’t tell him the result. She checked his heart rate and tension, analyzed his saliva, then his blood, put a strange machine in his ear, tested his reflexes, did another blood test, then finally administered him the cure. She told him to lie down on his bed, and left.

An hour passed. Ryoji’s eyes were wet by the time the doctor came back. She asked him a few questions in a completely neutral tone of voice, to which he replied without thinking. She ran more tests, fed him, then invited him to have a shower in another room. When he got out, she handed him the customary prison uniform, along with his monopad.

“You didn’t amputate me this time,” he noted in a matter-of-a-fact voice.

“I don’t have time for these idiocies,” she replied sharply. “Go away now, I have other patients to take care of. Take the stairs and sit in the waiting room, it’ll be on your left. There’s candy on the central table.”

“I’m not hungry,” he replied.

“Sure.”

Ryoji walked toward the exit, but before he could leave, the woman called him back.

“Wait.”

Ryoji turned around. She was handing him a handkerchief. He sniffled.

“Thanks,” he said weakly.

“You’re welcome. Good luck with the trial.”

Ryoji shot her a curious look.

“Who are you?”

“Who am I? That’s a stupid question. There are only two types of people in this place: believers and survivors. I’ll let you figure out which category I belong in.”

Ryoji nodded, and left. The waiting room looked like any waiting room at a doctor’s office. There was indeed candy on the table, the doctor hadn’t lied. Typhaine had been sitting on a chair, reading an outdated fashion magazine, before Ryoji’s arrival. When she noticed him, she ran to jump in his arms. They hugged in silence, and remained there for a while, barely moving. Eventually Ryoji let go, and put his friend down carefully.

“Thanks,” Typhaine said, wiping her eyes. “I needed that.”

“Me too. How did it go for you?”

“It was a little weird, but I’m glad it’s over. The doctor gave me some food, and I didn’t throw up! I was so proud! I asked him if he could tell me anything concerning my pregnancy, but he replied that it was too soon for that. What about you?”

“I didn’t really pay attention,” Ryoji admitted.

He looked around the room. There were several posters on the walls, showing pictures of his dead friends. The photos seemed to have all been taken before the beginning of killing game.

“What are these?” Ryoji whispered.

“Huh, you don’t know? I told the group about these posters a while ago… well, similar posters at least.”

“I don’t remember that.”

Typhaine face-palmed.

“Of course! You were a zombie back then. Uh… I mean, you were… well...”

“Oh right,” Ryoji recalled uneasily. “I wasn’t all there.”

“Yep. Well, take a look, and tell me if you have any questions.”

There were ten posters on the wall. They each featured a large picture of one of the participants, marked by a big red stamp. Sometimes it would read “failure”, but two of the stamps actually read “undetermined”. From left to right, Ryoji could see Sébastien, Alexander, Bertrand, Suzie, Jordana, Lucien, Typhaine, Gwenn, Magalie and Ferdinand. The two “undetermined” stamps had been applied to Sébastien and Jordana’s posters.

“It’s like those tombs in the graveyard,” Ryoji noted.

“Yep. But last time I came, Sébastien and Jordana were counted as failures, like the rest.”

“Strange. I wonder why they changed their mind?”

Typhaine shrugged.

“I also wonder why Rebecca isn’t on that list,” she added. “She tried to kill you after all.”

“Huh, that _is_ strange,” Ryoji admitted.

He turned around. On the other side of the room, there were more posters. These came with a green stamp that read “success”. There were only four: from left to right, they featured Julie, Lisa, Aphrodite and Rebecca.

“Huh? So you need to die to become a success?” Ryoji asked in confusion.

“I’m not sure,” Typhaine said, scratching her hair.

Ryoji sat down, and took another piece of candy. Typhaine sat next to him, in silence. They remained there for a while, waiting for Magalie to show up. It eventually felt like all the posters were coming to life again. Like their owners were stepping out of the pictures and beginning to talk among themselves, like on the first day at the railway station. Sébastien was obnoxiously showing off his archery skills to a very unimpressed Suzie, Lucien invited Lisa to admire the beauty of the landscape. Julie was standing in the middle, trying to seem cool without doing anything, and Bertrand was shyly admiring her from afar. Alexander was loudly exchanging jokes with Ferdinand – soon the two of them would probably want to engage in an arm-wrestling competition. Aphrodite was sitting in a corner, knitting a colorful scarf, while Rebecca told her all about her most insane childhood stories.

Meanwhile… Roberta…?

_Roberta wasn’t on any of the posters. You noticed, and Typhaine noticed as well. None of you said anything._

Magalie walked into the room, and all the portraits stopped moving. Ryoji gave her a neutral look.

“What have we here?” She asked with what seemed like genuine curiosity.

“Oh no…” Typhaine mumbled. “Here we go again.”

“Oh, the failure wall. How utterly fascinating.”

She ripped out her own portrait from the wall and made a paper airplane out of it. She threw it in the air – it spun around the room, and bumped into the face of the man who came to tell them that the helicopter was ready to depart. Ryoji left the room without any regrets.


	57. Lengthy Investigation

When the helicopter landed, Magalie quickly hopped out and disappeared. Typhaine and Ryoji were welcomed by Florian, who filled them in on what had happened during their absence.

“Gwenn and I have been investigating the apartment suites, parking lot, and the facility’s 3rd floor. We haven’t made any decisive discoveries, but we shared our notes on the group chat. Gwenn said they still had a few things to check out in the sports store, but they’ll be back here soon to start the fire.”

“Gotcha,” Ryoji replied.

“Hm, what else?” Florian pondered out loud. “Oh right, we still need an autopsy. Typhaine, you mind…?”

“I’m on it.”

“Thanks a lot. Last thing, it seems our gasoline container and our lighter have been stolen. You two wouldn’t happen to know anything about that? The container is red and quite large, so it’s hard to miss.”

Typhaine and Ryoji exchanged a worried glance.

“No, we didn’t.”

“Hm. Fine, I’ll ask around if anybody has seen it. Good luck on your investigation, you two.”

Typhaine rolled up her sleeves.

“No time to waste! Let’s go, Ryo!”

“All right. I guess we might as well start with her body.”

Rebecca hadn’t moved. Seeing her again made Ryoji understand why Gwenn and Florian had backed down from the autopsy. Her body was slightly crooked in a way that was impossibly disturbing. It was uncanny.

However Typhaine didn’t seem to care. She went down on her knees, and began to search Rebecca’s pockets. Meanwhile, Ryoji looked up.

As he had seen before, the apartment suite’s window was broken, and open wide. It was quite high, and Rebecca’s corpse laid directly underneath it. From there it wasn’t hard to come to the most logical conclusion: she must have fallen down at some point during the night. The wall in itself, although quite thick and solid, was bumpy and damaged in several places. As far as Ryoji knew, it had always been like this.

There were three tables around the body, which had clearly all come from the restaurant. Two of them had been placed side to side, and Rebecca had fallen in the middle, breaking one of them in the process. The third one had been toppled sideways, partially blocking the entrance to the restaurant. Ryoji went to inspect the ground underneath the table’s feet, but didn’t find any signs that they had been dragged in the mud, or moved at any point after being placed here. However, inspecting the ground revealed the presence of a few broken bricks – perhaps that was worth noting.

Ryoji took pictures of what seemed important, then left to search the garden, but didn’t find anything that seemed particularly relevant. When he came back to check on Typhaine, she gave him the results of her autopsy.

“Rebecca has very large bruises on her back, legs and face. As far as I can tell, they’re consistent with the injuries of someone who fell from a window. What’s it called…? Oh right, blunt-force trauma. She also broke several bones, from what I can tell. I think we can safely assume it wasn’t a setup, and she really _did_ fall from all the way up here.”

She showed Ryoji her pictures as she spoke. He had to agree that it seemed like the most logical conclusion.

“What else?”

“Not much. She wasn’t hit or stabbed, and I don’t think she was poisoned either. There’s no sign that she ever threw up or consumed any strange substance. That being said, there’s something weird about her hands.”

“What is it?”

“Well… it looks like she had an allergic reaction to something. Her hands are red and swollen, she has spots all over her skin, and even splinters in some places. There’s also a pretty deep cut inside her left palm. That’s all I found.”

“Wait, what’s that?” He asked, pointing to one of the pictures, noticing a strange stain on Rebecca’s finger.

“What do you mean? Oh uh… I don’t know.”

Ryoji crouched near the body, and picked up one of Rebecca’s arms. The smell assaulted his nose right away.

“It’s honey,” he realized. “She touched honey with her hands before she died. They’re still sticky all over, look.”

“Oh right, I hadn’t noticed! That’s super weird, but it might explain the spots. She might have been allergic to honey?”

“It’s a possibility.”

They both agreed to move on. Searching the restaurant didn’t yield any results, but they were a little luckier with the kitchen. Typhaine quickly found the jar of honey – it seemed like half of it had been emptied recently. They found an empty bowl which smelled of perfume, and also realized that two vodka bottles had been taken, though they didn’t know where to, or why.

“And I think we’re missing a funnel,” Typhaine added.

“We have funnels?”

“A gray and a pink one, yes. The gray one is gone.”

“I’m not sure if this is relevant, but might as well write it down anyway.”

Once they were done, they moved toward the stairs. Ryoji had only briefly inspected Bob’s room the first time, but he vaguely remembered that there was evidence that required his attention.

“What happened here?” Typhaine asked, standing in front of the door.

“Uh… well the entrance was blocked by a wooden plank before,” Ryoji explained. “Is that what you’re referring to?”

“No, I’m wondering where the window went.”

“The what?”

“There used to be a small window on this door,” Typhaine explained. “You know those tinted windows they used for decoration? But now it’s been covered by wood panels. See? That’s why the door is thicker in this area.”

For once, Ryoji managed not to think about nails. He shivered, but that was it.

“Interesting,” was the only thing he could say.

“I’ll take a picture.”

Next they pulled the door open, and Typhaine gasped.

“What happened here?”

Ryoji had to admit the scene was more than puzzling. Earlier he had only been focused on Bob’s well-being, so much that the utter mess in the room had completely escaped him.

“That’s… uh… okay, let’s go one step at a time.”

“I don’t even know where to begin.”

“That big rock on the floor is certainly a little strange.”

“Where? Oh, I see it.”

Both crouched near the rock in question. It was roughly the size of a melon, and the floorboards underneath it had been damaged, hinting that it had been thrown. It wasn’t bloody.

“There’s a little bit of dirt on it,” Typhaine noted. “Do you think it came from the parking lot?”

“Most likely. But who would want to bring a rock all the way here?”

Typhaine shrugged. Ryoji browsed through Gwenn’s notes on his monopad, but didn’t find anything concerning the rock. Either they hadn’t seen it, or they hadn’t deemed it relevant enough to take a picture.

_But you never know._

And thus, Ryoji took a picture of the rock.

“Look,” Typhaine said from behind.

She was pointing to the door. A rope had been tied around the handle on the inside, it rested useless on the floor. Ryoji estimated that it must be roughly three meters in length, but no more.

“Why do you think this is here?” She asked.

“I don’t know. Oh look, there’s a knot on the other end! It means this rope was originally tied to something else.”

“And look,” Typhaine continued, pointing to the floor. “There’s another rope there, but this one...”

Ryoji frowned.

“It’s a slipknot, isn’t it?”

“It is. You think Bob wanted to hang himself?” She asked in horror.

“Of course not! Besides, even if he wanted to, he didn’t have access to any ropes. This one must have come from outside.”

“Still, it doesn’t look like it was ever used,” Typhaine noted. “It’s so weird to see it lying on the floor like that.”

Ryoji crouched next to the rope.

“It’s covered in honey,” he said out loud.

It was only after he pronounced those words that he realized how absurd they sounded.

“It’s what now?”

“I’m not making this up!” Ryoji promised. “See for yourself.”

“Oh you’re right,” Typhaine admitted once she crouched next to him. “It smells like breakfast.”

None of them dared touch it. They stood near the strange rope, like two frogs around a pond. Ryoji was squinting.

“It smells like breakfast?” He repeated. “It smells like nettle, more like.”

“Huh?”

“Once again, I’m not making this up. My nose is much sharper than it used to be thanks to the hungry virus. This doesn’t _just_ smell like honey, there’s definitely something else to it. Like...”

He didn’t finish his sentence.

“I see what you mean!” Typhaine said excitedly. “Now that you mention it, I see little bits of green inside the honey layer. That’s probably why Rebecca’s hands showed signs of urticaria! It was just nettle rash all along.”

_Is that it? But why would anyone do something so absurd?_

Typhaine got up very suddenly, but lost her balance and nearly fell on the rope. Ryoji caught her at the last second.

“Careful there!”

“Sorry. I’m not used to standing on a floor that’s leaning over.”

“It’s because the building partially collapsed on itself during the bombings,” Ryoji explained.

“Oh, I see.”

Typhaine took a few steps, and put together a stool which had fallen on the side, near the wall.

“Aha!” She said triumphantly.

“You found something?”

“You bet I did! There are traces of dirt on that stool! I therefor conclude that someone stood on that stool at some point during the night!”

“It would make sense. If the culprit were planning to hang someone, they would have to hang the rope somewhere, and the ceiling is quite high.”

He went to his feet and raised his arms. He could almost reach the ceiling, and he knew that he was the tallest among the group.

_But where would they hang the rope?_

“Ah, here!” He said out loud.

There was a little hook embedded in the ceiling, near the western wall.

“I see it!” Typhaine said. “But wait, what is there a hook here? What’s its purpose?”

Ryoji pointed his finger at the chandelier, which had been carelessly tossed into a corner of the room.

“Right, I remember when that thing was up there,” Typhaine recalled.

Ryoji walked toward the open window. It was quite large, but not very high.

_Considering the slope, it wouldn’t be all that hard to fall down through here._

He stuck his head through the opening, and stared at the sky. The sun was already quite high – no doubt the investigation period would be over soon. He could hear the 2nd helicopter on its way back, probably carrying Bob and Jordana with it.

“Ryoji!” Typhaine shouted. “What are you doing?”

He realized with a bit of cold sweat that he was leaning down dangerously. Shivering, he took a step back, his shoe making a crunching sound as he crushed a few glass shards. In one quick motion, he closed the window. Then he noticed it.

“Oh shit.”

“What is it?”

Ryoji showed her the glass. There was a hole on the right pane, about as big as a melon. One of the pointy edges was bloody, and so was the handle.

“This is definitely an important clue!” Typhaine approved. “I found another one, look!”

She showed him a bloody surgical mask, and explained that she had found it in a trash can, along with their missing funnel.

“I was thinking, maybe the culprit stabbed someone while they wore this mask, and they got splashed in the process, and that’s why they wanted to get rid of it!”

“It’s possible,” Ryoji replied uncertainly, unwilling to disappoint her. “But you checked the body yourself, and you didn’t report any stab wound.”

“That’s true! But now I feel like I should check it one more time. Maybe I missed something? Look, there’s even blood on the floor!”

She was right. Little drops of blood formed a path that went from the window to the middle of the room. Ryoji dutifully took another picture, beginning to feel overwhelmed with the absurd abundance of clues.

“I’ll be honest with you Typhaine, I feel completely lost. I have no idea what happened here.”

“That’s okay, me neither! But that’s just because we haven’t found everything yet! By the way, did you noticed the glass shards near your feet?”

“Yes, I did.”

“There are some more near the entrance. I think this is where the window went. You know, the one I was telling you about?”

She dragged him by the sleeve and led him to the door. She picked up a shard and held it to his face.

“See? Tinted glass! Our culprit definitely broke the window. Maybe that’s what they used the rock for!”

“Hold on,” Ryoji said. “Those shards aren’t all the same, are they?”

He crouched down and picked another one up.

“Look,” he said. “This one is a little curvy, and it has a label on it. Doors don’t come with labels, do they?”

“No, they don’t. So you think something else was broken here?”

“It’s very likely.”

“Looks like it’s puzzle time!” Typhaine said with forced excitement.

“No need. From the shape of the shard, I can already tell it belonged to a bottle. And since we know two bottles went missing from the kitchen...”

“Oh, right! You think this is the vodka bottle?”

“Most likely.”

Typhaine held it to her nose.

“Definitely smells like vodka,” she admitted.

Ryoji took yet another picture.

“So are we done here?” Typhaine asked.

“There’s still the question of the duct tape on the wall,” Ryoji reminded her.

“Oh right! I almost forgot.”

She turned around on her heels and ran to the wall to inspect it, so fast that she nearly tripped again.

“Aaaall righty!” She said cheerfully. “Let’s see what clues this bad boy has to offer!”

“Uh… sure thing.”

Ryoji ripped out one the pieces of duct tape. It was rather thick and solid, and had been neatly cut, probably with a pair of scissors. Most of the pieces which were still on the wall had been ripped.

“What was the room like when you first came in?” Typhaine asked.

“Everything was pretty much the same, except Bob was lying down on the floor. He had a lot of duct tape on his clothes, mostly on his front.”

“Weird. Was he still cuffed?”

“The cuffs were still on his wrists, but the chain that connected them had been severed.”

“Hm.”

They both stood in silence for a little while, until Ryoji gave up.

“There’s nothing I can learn by staring at this wall. Let’s look for something else.”

“Cool! I think I know where we should go next.”

“And where is that?”

“I’m glad you asked. Captain Typhaine is leading the way! En route toward: the workshop!”

“The… workshop?” Ryoji repeated, holding his hands in front of his chest defensively.

“Of course! It seems our culprits used a lot of tools for their plan, and it’s right in the next room anyway. Might as well give it a look!”

“But...”

Ryoji nervously cast a glance toward the window, as if he were looking for an escape route.

“I can’t really… go there,” he said in a tiny voice. “Because of the… tools.”

Typhaine tilted her head.

“Huh? Oh, right! Those… tools! Say, how about we find a code name for them?”

“Code name?”

“We could call them bananas. It makes it seem far less scary.”

“That’s not necessary,” Ryoji mumbled.

“Don’t worry Ryo, I got this. I’ll enter the workshop and remove all the bananas from your sight! And then you too can investigate.”

Ryoji was shaking slightly – but he didn’t want to disappoint Typhaine. Attempting to steel himself, he nodded at her suggestion.

“Don’t forget to also remove the… uh...”

“The… strawberries, you mean? I got it!”

She hopped into the workshop and quickly found the toolbox tucked underneath a pile of towels. Putting the towels on the shelf next to the wooden statues, she opened the box, and perused its content. The saw had her freezing for a moment, but she hastily caught herself.

“Okay, time to remove the nasty fruits.”

She picked up the hammer and hid it beneath the pile of towels. There were no nails in sight, so she got up and investigated the rest of the room. She found another hammer on the tool rack, which she hid in the same place as the first.

“Okay Ryo, no more bananas in sight!” She called out.

He walked into the room, casting anxious glances left and right, one hand clutched around his left arm. He and Typhaine searched the workshop thoroughly, but didn’t find anything weird, besides missing shears.

“Okay!” Typhaine said. “Guess that didn’t work out too well for us, but it doesn’t matter! Let’s look somewhere else!”

She proudly pumped her fists in the air and stormed out of the room, but quickly realized Ryoji wasn’t following her.

“What’s going on?”

He avoided her gaze.

“You don’t have...” he mumbled.

“Huh?”

“Never mind.”

“I don’t have what? Do you need something?”

Ryoji seemed uncomfortable.

“You don’t have to pretend to be cheery, that’s all.”

“Pretend? I don’t pretend-”

“Please don’t lie to me.”

Typhaine removed her cap and pressed it against her chest.

“Sorry. I forgot you could read emotions and stuff.”

“No need to apologize. It’s just… why are you doing that? I don’t understand. Is it for my sake?”

“No… it’s just...”

Typhaine took a deep breath.

“I’m going to have to start the trial with a bit of a difficult announcement,” she explained. “I can’t do it now, I need everyone to be there. It’s probably going to hurt, and it’s probably also going to disappoint everyone.”

She pressed her cap between her hands.

“So uh… I try to distract myself from that by playing detective with you. Because I don’t want to think about it yet. I know it might seem a bit insensitive… but it’s not that I don’t care about Rebecca, I swear! I cared a lot about her!”

Her eyes were watery. Ryoji wanted to draw her in for a hug, but she refused.

“We’re wasting time here. There’s still so much to see, and we might hit the time limit pretty soon. I’d better go.”

“Typhaine, if you need a moment-”

“No!”

She ran out of the room, leaving Ryoji alone and bewildered. He followed her down the stairs, but when he reached the parking lot, she was nowhere to be found.

  
  


**

  
  


Ryoji came to see Gwenn, who was finishing the preparations of the fire in the parking lot.

“Hey Ryo. How’s the investigation going?”

“It’s a lot. Did you see Typhaine?”

“I told her that I still hadn’t found my lighter and gas container, so she went to look for them in the facility. Hopefully when she brings them back, we can finally light this thing. I have only a few things left to move and we should be good to go.”

“Oh, neat. Like what?”

“The logs you cut for me. I almost forgot about them, but Florian reminded me of their existence. It’s a cool thing he did, dry wood burns fairly well. And besides, I wouldn’t want your work to go to waste.”

“I see. What about Bob and Jordana? They’re back and safe?”

“Yes, they are in fact. Jordana’s still in a wheelchair though. She’s investigating the facility’s 1st floor, and I think Bob went to search the sports store. He’s a little bit shaken from the whole Furantur thing, but I think he’ll be delighted to see you.”

Gwenn smiled.

“The first thing he said when he arrived was to ask for you. Then he began to apologize for all the things he did when he was ill, but I told him that it wasn’t his fault.”

“I should talk to him,” Ryoji realized. “I know him, he’s going to feel guilty about all this, but he’ll try to bottle up his emotions if I don’t talk him through it.”

“Do your thing then. Try to get a word in before the trial starts.”

Ryoji nodded.

“Thanks Gwenn. I’ll go look for him.”

He turned around and walked toward the restaurant’s entrance – but before he could get in, he nearly bumped into Magalie.

“Oh, sorry,” he mumbled.

“Ryoji! Perfect, you’re the person I was looking for.”

“I am?” He asked in disbelief. “Are you sure about that?”

“Of course I am. Come here, I need to talk to you. It concerns the little promise I made.”

“Promise?” He repeated stupidly.

“Well, you could also call it a warning. Come on, follow me.”

She grabbed his sleeve and dragged him inside the restaurant. Gwenn watched them suspiciously as they left. Ryoji felt his back getting sweaty.

“There, perfect,” Magalie said once they were in the middle of the room. “Huh, this place really feels empty without the tables.”

“Get to the point,” Ryoji begged. “We don’t have much time.”

“On that we agree. But come on Ryo, smile! I have good news for once.”

Magalie rarely smiled – and when she did, it always seemed a little strange, like she was forcing an unnatural reflex. It never felt genuine.

“I have decided to spare you,” she explained. “Or to put it more accurately, I will delay your suffering.”

“Huh? I don’t understand what this means.”

“What this means? Well-”

She moved toward the counter, and grabbed Ferdinand’s sword, which she must have previously put there (Ryoji distinctly remembered it not being there earlier). Testing its weight with her hand, she spun it once, forcing Ryoji to take a step back.

“I was originally going to stab you with that,” she said with casual nonchalance. “But then I decided I would not stab you with that, but someone else instead. Simple enough for your monkey brain?”

“You’re joking,” Ryoji countered. “You can’t be serious.”

“But I am. We already have a murder on our hands, and Monoblade only executes one person per trial. I can get away with this.”

“Magalie, you can’t kill someone!”

“Can’t I? I already did. I grabbed a gun, and shot Aphrodite in the chest. And tell me Ryoji: what happened after that?”

She leaned in close to him, and whispered in his ear.

“I got away with it.”

Then, giggling like a teenager, she ran to the kitchen and left the room.

For a moment, Ryoji stood frozen in place, incapable of thinking coherently. None of this felt real. People didn’t usually act in such irrational ways. They didn’t warn others when they were about to commit murders.

A violent shiver shook him back to his senses. He began to prance around the room, wondering what to do.

“I need… need to ask for help,” he mumbled to himself. “I need to call for-”

_Rebecca? But she’s dead. She can’t help you anymore._

It was only then that Ryoji realized. He was all alone. He could no longer hide behind Lisa, he couldn’t ask Aphrodite for her guidance, or call for Rebecca’s help. Gwenn wasn’t far, but what could they do for him? He was on his own.

_What am I doing? I have to move!_

Ryoji began to run.

  
  


**

  
  


In the sports store, Magalie was strolling between the aisles, calling Bob’s name. Ryoji ran in and followed her voice.

“Magalie, stop! You don’t have to do this!”

“I’m hearing a voice, but it’s the wrong one. C’mon, Bobby! Won’t you show your face to me?”

She turned right and entered the next aisle, full of swimsuits and miscellaneous pool items. Ryoji ran to meet her in the middle, but she casually dodged him.

“Bob? Are you really not there?”

There was a moment of silence. Ryoji too was looking for his boyfriend. Perhaps they could run away together if he found him?

“Hm, that’s weird,” Magalie commented. “I think Bob isn’t here.”

She had moved to the basketball aisle, testing the fabric of a few tank tops with her fingers, apparently lost in thoughts. Ryoji was watching her from a safe distance.

“I suppose I will have to go back on my word,” Magalie said with a shrug. “It’s not against you Ryo. But your boyfriend ditched me, and this sword is getting tired of waiting.”

“Don’t do it.”

He wanted to make it sound like a warning, but it sounded more like a plea.

Magalie ignored him, and charged. Ryoji stood in place stupidly, only thinking to run away when she got close enough to hit. He dodged the blade by a centimeter, letting out a frightened squeak as a cascade of orange balls nearly fell onto him.

“Stop it!” He pleaded. “You have no idea what you’re doing!”

“Actually, I do, despite what people might think.”

Ryoji ran into the next aisle, but Magalie was already onto him. He swiftly grabbed a croquet mallet and held it in front of his face like a shield. It blocked the blow but only barely – a few centimeters to the left, and it would have chopped one of his fingers. Magalie laughed at him.

“Seriously dude? You’re going to fight me with a _hammer?”_

Ryoji wailed and dropped the weapon, as if it had burned his palms.

“It’s a mallet,” he protested weakly, crawling to the floor backwards.

“Looks a lot like a hammer to me,” Magalie replied as she dislodged her blade from the mallet’s handle.

Ryoji got to his feet and ran until he reached the end of the aisle. He was so confused and scared that he momentarily forgot where the exit was. As a consequence, he remained frozen in place, unable to choose where to run to. Magalie walked toward him quietly.

“The javelins are to your right, if you were wondering,” she said smugly.

He ran to his right, and entered the next aisle. Magalie hadn’t lied. Picking up one of the javelins, he turned around, ready to face his opponent. Magalie walked into the aisle, and stood in the light, smiling. She was resting the sword on her shoulder, like a lumberjack might with his ax. Never before had an accessory looked so adequate on her person before. Ryoji realized that her arms were covered with bandages.

“What happened to you?”

“That matters very little.”

She struck him once, aiming for his shoulder. Ryoji blocked the blow clumsily, and Magalie retracted her blade. She repeated the same maneuver six times in a row, targeting different parts of his body. She was playing with him.

Ryoji was sweating. The javelin felt slippery in his hand, he nearly dropped it on three occasions. Each time he blocked the blade, he felt the tension rising in his body. His wrists already hurt, and he was out of breath.

“Magalie please,” he begged. “Think about the-”

She struck him again, and managed to hit his shoulder. The blade cut through his clothes and his skin like butter, and Ryoji was very startled to see his own blood leaking out of the wound. He fell to one knee.

“What…?” He said weakly. “I thought this sword wasn’t sharp.”

“You seriously thought the ultimate medieval historian didn’t know how to sharpen a sword? Your _naïveté_ fills me with pity.”

Ryoji dropped the javelin and placed a hand against his wound, hoping to stop the blood flow. He began to snivel.

“Don’t just sit there, you idiot,” Magalie snarled. “Get up and fight. I’m not going to be kind on you forever.”

To prove her point, she raised her sword above her own head and struck, aiming for Ryoji’s skull. His survival instinct saved him. Instead of trying to dodge backwards, he rammed his head into her legs, throwing all his weight forward in an attempt to break her balance. Magalie flew like a twig, hitting her head against the tiling and falling on her back, losing the sword. Taking some time to pick himself up, Ryoji ran out of the aisle, frantically searching for the exit door.

His head was spinning. To feel the blood leaking from his wound made him feel like he was dying. His body was so tense that taking a single step became a challenge. However, the door was getting closer. Just a bit further, and he could-

“Oh no you don’t!”

She was there, wielding both the sword and the spear. When had she…?

“Fuck!” Ryoji yelled in anguish, throwing himself at the door.

He succeeded at pushing it, but the door was quite heavy, and by the time he finally managed to stumble out, Magalie had already managed to slit his back.

“Quit running away!” she yelled. “You’re a man or what?”

“Leave me alone!” Ryoji cried.

He waddled out of her reach and ran to the graveyard, hiding behind Lisa’s grave. He tried to throw a rock at Magalie, but missed by a full meter. She threw the javelin at him, which very nearly pierced his left foot.

He grabbed the spear and defended himself. Magalie managed to push him back through the kitchen door, then into the restaurant, and out in the parking lot.

However at this point, neither fighter could continue the duel. Their stares were caught by the flames, huge red tongues attempting to lick the sky. Even from this distance, they could feel their heat, and hear the creaking of the wood and metal, as the whole building’s structure began to collapse on itself.

Gwenn’s pile of wood remained untouched, but the facility’s 2nd floor was on fire.

“Well, that’s certainly not something you see every day,” Magalie said in admiration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol, what the hell is going on? (If you have any theories, I'd love to read about them)
> 
> Sketch of the swordswoman: https://imgur.com/a/J8gBt1z


	58. Absurdity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as you're obviously aware, there's a lot going on. If you feel like I forgot to write about something important, don't hesitate to warn me - I can easily use your feeback to make corrections!

Ryoji could hardly believe his eyes. The research facility, which had been his home for the last month, was burning to the ground. He was so shocked that he forgot all about his wounds, about Magalie’s attempt on his life, about Bob. The great brazier was like a storm, completely engulfing him and drowning all other sounds.

Panic had taken control of the group. Gwenn was yelling at Monoblade, commanding the robot to do something about the situation. Jordana was cradling Typhaine, who had apparently barely escaped the fire, and was shaking in fear. Bob was trying to speak to Ryoji, to shake him from his trance. He was asking what had happened, why he was bleeding. Ryoji couldn’t hear. He was fully immersed in the absurdity of the situation.

_Everything was finally going to go back to normal. We were all cured. Maybe we could have escaped after this trial. Why did this happen? Who was crazy enough to do something like this, at a time like this?_

The fire was spreading. The flames were roaring, higher and higher as they consumed the 2nd floor and climbed toward the 3rd. Ryoji wasn’t sure for how long it lasted. After a while, two helicopters flew above the building and doused it with water until it finally stopped burning.

After that, Gwenn and Bob rushed inside the building, later followed by Ryoji. The door to the norther hallway had partially been crushed by the wall’s weight, and took their combined efforts to open. The elevator was out of order, and the staircase was covered with debris. Most of the furniture on the second floor had been reduced to unrecognizable blocks of burned wood and melting metal. There were cracks in the walls and floor, it felt like the whole structure might collapse on itself at any given time.

They found him in the 2nd classroom on the 2nd floor. He was lying down on the floor like a sleeping baby, eyes closed and unrecognizable. If the smell of burned flesh wasn’t enough of an assault in itself, the sight of what Florian’s corpse had been reduced to was enough to flip anyone’s stomach upside down. Gwenn was crying and yelling in fury, injuring their hands by attempting to punch the walls. In the end, Bob had to take them down, and they were forced to rest in the 2nd apartment suite.

The body discovery announcement rang once they were gone. Ryoji barely even heard it. Finding himself alone in the room, he realized he was supposed to investigate.

_How? How could anyone do something so heinous? So completely devoid of shame, so far into the game?_

He found himself leaving the room. He couldn’t stand to even look at the corpse, and there was nothing left in the room for him to investigate. That’s what he told himself, thought part of him knew that it wasn’t true. Back in the parking lot, he directly went to see Jordana.

“I can’t,” he told her. “I can’t do it.”

“What can’t you do?”

“Investigate. This murder, I can’t investigate it. It’s too much.”

“Ryo...”

“What’s the point anyway?” He shouted. “I thought I knew us by now. We spent so much time together, we shared the same nightmare. And yet someone, one of us, did this. And you know what? I don’t care! They can win. I’m just tired of this. I don’t want to survive if it’s to be betrayed over and over again.”

He sat next to her wheelchair, feeling the tears welling up in his eyes – but they never came. He couldn’t even feel sad about this situation. The only feeling that came to him was disappointment. Florian’s death had been a major waste. Yes, a waste, that was the word. This whole killing game was a waste, his efforts had been a waste, his aspirations-

“Ryoji Sorrentino,” Jordana said softly.

He didn’t reply, afraid that she was going to yell at him.

“Believe me, I understand how you feel,” she said wearily. “There are times when the hardships you face become so much of a burden that you lose complete faith in yourself. You think that it’s too big for you, that there’s nothing you can do. You become tired of fighting, and you begin to think that, if you were dead, at least you wouldn’t have to suffer so much.”

“...”

“You’ve been unbelievably strong so far,” Jordana continued. “I’m very proud of you, you know? When I first met you, I thought you were just some crybaby, unworthy of my attention. I expected you to either die early, or just be completely useless. I couldn’t have been more wrong.”

She was smiling, but it didn’t make Ryoji feel any better.

“Well, you can save that disappointment. I’m still a crybaby, and I’m going to be nothing but useless from now on.”

“And that’s okay,” Jordana said softly.

“… huh?”

That was not the answer he had expected.

“What do you mean, it’s okay?”

“You’ve done so much for everyone, Ryo. You’ve proven again and again how much you loved us all. You’ve always been a good support, you never gave up on us. I think we can cut you some slack for once, can’t we?”

“I don’t understand.”

“Leave the rest of the investigation to us is what I mean. I don’t trust Magalie at all, and Gwenn needs to rest for as long as they can, but Bob and I are fine. I can’t go up the stairs on my own, but I guess Bob can always carry me if it comes to that. We’ll share our notes with you when we’re done, how does that sound?”

Ryoji couldn’t believe his ears.

“You’re letting me get away with it?”

“Yes,” Jordana replied patiently. “That’s what’s happening here.”

“But...”

“Come on Ryo, it’s fine. Besides, you have to do something for those wounds. It doesn’t look like that helicopter is coming soon, but Typhaine can treat you.”

Ryoji rubbed his eyes. Still no tears.

“I don’t like this, but… I suppose I don’t have a choice.”

“Can you tell me what happened?”

He briefly explained what Magalie had done to him: how she had threatened to kill Bob, lured him inside the sports store, only to attack him instead, injuring him twice. He told the story a second time when Bob and Typhaine came back, earning scandalized reactions from both of them. They both left, and while Typhaine searched the ruins of the 1st floor for a bandage, Bob borrowed Gwenn’s keys and locked Magalie into one of the torture rooms. She went without resistance, as if it had somehow been her objective all along.

When Bob came back into the parking lot, Ryoji’s wounds had been tended to, and Typhaine had already left. The tall man was resting in the grass, eyes closed, breathing slowly. Bob and Jordana exchanged a glance, and silently decided to go.

  
  


**

  
  


Bob carried Jordana bridal style as he climbed the ruined stairs – not that he knew it was called “bridal style”, or he would have certainly carried her on his back.

“Ah, this ain’t gonna be easy, is it?” he asked uneasily as he eyed the desolation all around him. “At least yer quite light.”

“I barely ate anything these last few days,” Jordana admitted. “On your left, we’re going into the 2nd classroom.”

“Classroom? This place has classrooms?”

“Always had. We just never go inside.”

Bob kicked the door with his leg, and let out a noise of disgust.

“Holy fuckin’ shit. I know I’m a man an’ stuff, but that’s the kinda sight ya really can’t get used to.”

“It’s quite repellent,” Jordana admitted. _“Madre de Dios,_ they didn’t go easy on him.”

“I know, right? He wasn’t exactly super nice to hang out with, but that don’t mean you gotta roast him like that. Jeez, tha’s _savagery.”_

Bob had originally planned to set Jordana on a chair, but all of them had burned in the fire. Out of all the rooms on the 2nd floor, it was the one which had suffered the most from the brazier. The metallic structure that held the building together was sometimes visible underneath the burned floorboards.

Bob got as close as he dared to the body.

“He died with his eyes closed,” he noticed. “Or uh… at least I think so. Hard to tell, since his skin is a little burned too.”

“His mouth is closed. I expect, if he had been conscious, he would have been yelling.”

“Tha’s a good thing at least,” Bob said with obvious relief. “He prolly didn’t suffer too much.”

“What I wonder is why he’s barefooted.”

“The culprit might’ve removed his shoes?”

“What for?”

Bob didn’t have an answer to that.

Next to the body was a pile of melted red plastic, which Bob guessed to be the remains of the gas container. He let Jordana take the picture (at least _her_ hands were free), bending his legs so she could get a better look.

“I found the lighter,” she informed him. “It’s right here, next to the body. It’s still open, but it ran out of fuel.”

“This duzn’t tell us much, duz it?”

“Not really. I didn’t expect us to find all that many clues in this room anyway. If there was anything, the fire took care of it.”

She frowned, though Bob couldn’t see that.

“You mind putting me down? Although it disgusts me a bit, I’d like to inspect the body a little more.”

“Found sumethin’?”

“I might.”

Bob did as she asked, testing the resistance of the floorboards with his feet before putting her down. While she inspected the body, he took a few steps back, wondering what to do. Similarly to Ryoji in a different room earlier, his gaze was drawn toward the windows. The glass had shattered due to the heat, and there were small shards all over the floorboards. However, some of them seemed to have peculiar shape. Squinting, Bob crouched to inspect them.

“There’s a broken bottle in there,” he told Jordana.

“Interesting.”

Bob stood back up, and looked through the window. Down in the parking lot, Ryoji was still resting.

 _He’s so beautiful my big man,_ he thought lovingly.

Taking a few steps back, Bob noticed something odd.

“Hey wait, why’s that window opened?”

“Hm?”

“Look, the glass broke durin’ the fire, but it was already open even before that! Wha’s that all about?”

“No clue. But it might be worth noting.”

With nothing else to look at, Bob decided to wait for a while.

“I’m done,” Jordana announced after a while.

“Le’s hear it. What didja find?”

“Florian was attacked before he burned to death, with a blade of some sort. There are several laceration marks on his belly and arms, though none look especially deep. They look quite fresh.”

“I see,” Bob said as he wrote everything down. “Wait huh? But that’d mean… he was attacked this mornin’? While we were all investigatin’?”

“Looks like it. I don’t know when it could have happened.”

“Mag attacked Ryo with a sword,” Bob reminded her angrily. “It’s possible she attacked Flo too.”

“True. I wonder though...”

Once they were done with the classroom, Bob and Jordana quickly searched the rest of the facility. They hoped to find some clues on the 3rd floor (where Rebecca had been sleeping), but aside from a busted lock and doorknob, (and a mallet lying near the door, probably used for breaking the door) they didn’t find anything relevant.

Once they left the building, they met up with Ryoji, who was already feeling better. It seemed like after a quick rest, he had resumed the investigation by himself, starting with his direct surroundings.

“I found this weird rope,” he explained. “One of the edges is burned, and the other one was planted quite deep into the earth. It’s also super long, but I have no idea what it was used for.”

“It used to be hanging from up there,” Jordana explained, pointing to one of the windows with her finger.

“This- wait, but it’s the classroom isn’t it?”

“That’s why the window was opened,” Bob mumbled.

“It’s indeed the classroom,” Jordana nodded. “It’s hard to believe it’s not connected with the case. But the ‘how’ remains nebulous for now. You say it was planted in the earth?”

“Yeah, there were like, two meters of rope under the earth. It looks like the ground has been dug up around here.”

“I see. But it wasn’t tied around anything?”

“Not that I could find – but it looks like it snapped at the end there, so that might explain it.”

The three of them crossed the parking lot and moved to investigate the restaurant and kitchen. When that proved useless, they went inside the laundromat, where they found Typhaine, who appeared a little shaken.

“What is it Typh?” Bob asked curiously.

“I found blood,” she explained. “A lot of blood.”

Jordana frowned.

“That definitely sounds important. Where did you find it?”

“It’s beyond there,” she said as she pointed to the hole in the wall.

“Ah, I see. I can’t really go there, unless you carry me and my wheelchair with you.”

“I can’t go here either,” Ryoji admitted uneasily. “I don’t want to go.”

“Guess it’s gonna be ol’ Bob’s job then?”

Everyone nodded. Shrugging, Bob walked through the hole with Typhaine.

“Hold on Typh, whuzzat thing?”

“Hm? What are you talking about?”

“Remove yer cap, girlie. Ain’t there a wound here?”

“… yes.”

“Sumeone attacked ya? Is it a recent wound, or an old one? Can’t tell from ‘ere, and cuz of that damn funiture virus I’ve lost track of lotsa important stuff.”

“It happened this morning, but I’ll explain everything when the trial starts.”

“Ya sure? Ain’t that too much press- HOLY SHIT!”

When Typhaine had said “a lot of blood”, Bob hadn’t expected such a large pool. He estimated that it must be at least two meters in length, if not more. The cobbles were drenched with the liquid, and it was still quite fresh.

“It’s not all,” Typhaine said grimly. “There’s more if you walk further down the street.”

Bob followed the direction she was pointing to, and noticed the same thing. There were several smaller bloodstains, sometimes they would be a few meters apart from one another. He kept walking, and it never seemed to end.

“Watch out!” Typhaine warned. “There are some cracks on this road, if you’re not careful you might fall!”

“Gotcha!” Bob replied.

He turned around, and was just about to circle back to where he came from when something caught his attention. It was a little hat, full of dust and splattered with blood, pierced by a metal pole. Bob decided to snatch it and brought it back to Typhaine.

“Ya seen that thing before?”

“Aaah! That’s Florian’s fedora!”

“So it’s as I thought. Flo didn’t die in that classroom out there, he died here.”

“It seems likely, yes,” Typhaine replied, gulping. “It’s impossible to survive after losing so much blood.”

“We sure it’s the real thing tho? It might be ‘nother of them tricks.”

“It smells like blood for sure.”

Bob dipped his fingers into one of the puddles. Typhaine gasped in fright.

“It feels like blood too,” he admitted. “It has the right color and thickness… I dun’t think there’s any mistakin’ that.”

“I’m going to be sick.”

“Not again!”

Bob quickly carried Typhaine away from the scene, afraid she’d throw up on the evidence. They hopped back through the whole, rejoining their friends in the laundromat. They took a few minutes to discuss what they had just found.

“Any luck on yer side?” Bob ended up asking.

“We found this inside one of the washing machines,” Ryoji explained showing them a very dirty and damp prison uniform. It was covered in blood.

“It smells,” Bob noticed.

“No kidding,” the man replied with a wince.

“We also found this bloody knife,” Jordana added casually.

“Is that a kitchen knife?” Typhaine asked.

“Probably. Does it matter?”

“I’m not sure.”

Next they discussed where they should go next – but before they could take a decision, Monoblade popped up out of nowhere.

“I tried to give you kids as much time as possible, but I can’t stretch out the investigation period for any longer. The class trial is going to start.”

“Should we head toward the elevator then?” Ryoji asked.

“The elevator is _hors-service,_ kiddo. No, what you should do is lie down on the floor.”

“Eh?” Bob asked. “Why?”

Monoblade shrugged.

“Because the sleeping gas is going to make you fall asleep, and it’d be a shame if you hurt yourself while falling.”

“Sleeping gas?” Bob repeated. “But why izzat necessary?”

“I can smell it,” Ryoji noted. “Oh no, my head is spinning.”

“See you on the other side, amigos,” Jordana chanted.

Ryoji fell on his knees. He felt the pressure of Bob’s hand on his shoulder, before everything faded to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Florian's death portrait: https://imgur.com/a/Dstx4mu
> 
> So, before we start the trial... any thoughts? Can you figure out who the culprit(s) is(are)? How did they do it? What were they trying to achieve?


	59. Class Trial 5 - Rain Edition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cast of survivors (UPDATED): https://imgur.com/a/wcQCFLT
> 
> (plenty of fresh new art in that link! go check it out!)

Ryoji woke up, expecting to find himself back in courtroom above the shopping center, with the big aquarium. He was deeply surprised to find instead the open sky above him, with the radiant sun blinding his vision. From what he could tell, he was lying down on the grass, and he was alone. He could hear a river flowing nearby, a few ants were running on his legs.

He got up, and took a view of his surroundings. The place couldn’t exactly be called a forest, and yet it wasn’t a field either. The tallest trees were all dead, but the youngest looked strong and healthy. Their leaves were starting to turn yellow. He noticed a tiny rabbit running away in the distance. What he had previously thought to be a river was in fact a narrow stream of clean water, covered with water lilies.

“It’s pretty, huh?” Came Bob’s voice from a short distance.

“It really is. But why are we here?”

“’tis the new courtroom, silly bear. Come with me.”

Bob grabbed his hand and helped him get up. They went down a narrow sandy path that led them close to a huge rocky cliff. Ten podiums had been carved from wood and erected in a circle, and most of Ryoji’s classmates had already found their assigned place. Monoblade’s throne was carved directly within the rock formation itself.

“What is this place?” Jordana asked curiously.

“Well, I can’t give you the geographical specifics”, Monoblade admitted. “But consider this your new courtroom. Enjoy those podiums, I carved them myself in my free time.”

“Is that true?” Typhaine asked in admiration.

“Of course not. I don’t have any free time.”

“But why are we outside?” Jordana insisted. “Aren’t you afraid we’ll just run away?”

“You can certainly try – but I’d look up if I were you.”

Ryoji looked up. The cliff was roughly two hundred meters tall. It was hard to see from this distance, but a big machine seemed to be resting on top of it. It looked like it belonged in a construction site.

“We call it the clawer,” Monoblade explained. “If you try to run away, it will shoot a big metal claw that will lock around your neck, and gently send you back to your seat.

“Ah, so it’s like that thing ya use for executions?” Bob asked, sounding somewhat impressed.

“Precisely. It can shoot up to ten claws at the same time, and there are ten employees up there in charge of operating it, one per claw.”

“That sounds a little overkill, don’t you think?” Jordana asked with a snort. “Kidnappers sure like their big toys.”

“It sounds very impractical too,” Magalie observed. “The claws could easily tangle with one another, and then you’d look pretty stupid.”

“Don’t insult our technology!” Monoblade complained, sounding a little hurt. “Besides, even if that were to happen, it’s still pointless. We have other clawers in the area, and helicopters scanning the perimeter. You’re basically surrounded.”

Bob whistled.

“I didn’ know we were that much of a big deal. Tha’ sounds like a whole lotta security just for the six of us.”

“Oh, it’s not just for you,” Monoblade said casually. “They’re running another killing game in the same area, so it’s a way to kill a few birds with one stone.”

“What?” Typhaine squeaked in horror.

“There’s more?” Ryoji shouted in astonishment.

“That’s gotta be a fuckin’ joke,” Bob mumbled.

“Wait, you didn’t know?” Monoblade asked. “Shit, maybe I wasn’t supposed to tell you kids that. Ahum, anyway, so about the trial-”

“Wait, you still haven’t told us why we need to be outside,” Jordana persisted. “This is highly irregular, and I suspect there’s a very nasty reason for that. Go on, out with it. Is there a special rule to this trial? To the aftermath?”

“None of that,” Monoblade promised. “Look, I was just told to run things this way, okay? My bosses got some new ideas about the power of nature and all that. Apparently it’ll make it easier to confront your sins or whatever. So we’re trialling here, but the rules are the same. Just move on, gosh.”

“Fine,” Jordana said. “I suppose we might as well get started.

“Wait,” Typhaine said. “Please, can I get your attention?”

“What is it?” Bob asked.

“This might be a bit of a selfish request, but… I’d like to take a moment to say goodbye to the dead first. It would make it easier for me to move on with the trial. Please? It won’t take long.”

She eyed Monoblade hopefully. He let out a frustrated grunt.

“Sure, do whatever you like. I’m really spoiling you kids at this point, am I not?”

“Thank you,” she said gratefully. “What about you guys? Are you okay with this?”

“I’m not opposed,” Jordana said.

“Yeah, guess it’s fine,” Bob agreed.

“I think it’s a good idea,” Ryoji nodded. “I’d like to say a few words too.”

“I don’t care and I won’t say anything,” Magalie said in a bored tone.

“Not like we expected anything from you,” Jordana said as she rolled her eyes.

“What about you Gwenn?” Typhaine asked gently. “You haven’t said anything. Are you okay with the idea?”

Gwenn truly looked devastated. Their eyes were red and puffy, they were staring off into space, their back slightly hunched. For a while they didn’t say anything, but just as Typhaine was about to repeat her question, they said:

“Sure. I think it’s a good idea.”

“Cool,” Typhaine replied. “How about we all say something? I’ll start, and then we all follow the circle from then. Let’s start with Rebecca, and we’ll say goodbye to Florian next. Works for you all?”

Four silent nods. Typhaine smiled, and removed her cap, which she pressed against her chest.

“Hey Becca,” she began softly, staring at the center of the circle. “I wanted to thank you for what you did for me. For… all of us. You were already trying to help me long before I even realized who you really were. I wish I could have helped you more in return.”

A pause.

“Still, you inspired me a lot. You’re always looking out for others, trying to understand them. I want to be more like you. So… thank you for that.”

She closed her eyes.

“Good bye Rebecca,” she added, her voice shaking a little. “I’ll never forget you.”

Typhaine was flanked by the portraits of Ferdinand and Florian. Ryoji, who was the closest to her, cleared his throat.

“I guess it’s my turn then…?”

The others seemed to approve.

“I…”

He stared at his hands helplessly.

“I forgive you Rebecca. For real this time. I’m not trying to escape anymore, I truly believe you deserve it. Thank you for everything you did for me.”

“You had every reason to hate me,” Jordana said. “But you didn’t. Even now, I still don’t understand you, but I think I’ve learned to respect you. Goodbye.”

“Bye,” was all Gwenn added.

Ryoji guessed Florian weighed heavier on their mind than Rebecca.

“Ya were a super cool gal,” Bob said with a sniffle. “Everythin’s goin’ so fast, I still can’t really believe we lost ya. Ya saved my life, and I’ll never forget it. If I ever get outta here, I’ll do my best to help yer family. Ya can count on me.”

He bowed.

“Goodbye.”

Magalie didn’t say anything.

“Thanks everyone,” Typhaine said, rubbing her eyes. “Now we need to say goodbye to Flo. Gwenn, would you like to start?”

“Sure. This is gonna be a mess though.”

“It’s fine,” Ryoji assured him. “Just say whatever you like.”

Gwenn didn’t show any sign that they had heard him. A long silence ensued.

“Hey Flo,” Gwenn began shakily. “I’m like, super pissed right now. Super pissed that you left me, and super mad at whoever thought it was okay to kill you like that. I don’t understand. This feeling inside of me, it’s like a void that’s consuming me, little by little. I keep hoping that it’ll get better, but it never does. Can you hear me? Are you out there, somewhere, watching me? Did it hurt when you burned? I wish you could reply. I wish we could open a flower shop together, I wish we could go out and see the world. Or even less than that, I just wish I could hear your voice again. Your super irritating voice. I used to hate you, can you believe that? And now it seems like I can’t live my life without you. What happened? Why did that happen?”

Gwenn didn’t seem to notice they were crying. Everyone else was stunned into silence.

“I can’t say goodbye yet,” they continued. “I… kinda like talking to you, even though you’re gone. I think I’ll keep doing that for a while.”

And just like that, they stopped talking. The others expected them to finish their speech, but they never did.

_Guess it’s not always so easy._

Bob, who was standing right next to Gwenn, looked extremely uneasy. He kept silently interrogating the others, wondering if it was his turn.

“I’m sorry Flo, I feel like I barely knew ya,” he admitted sadly. “Ya were rich and I wasn’t, so I didn’t think we could ever get along. How stupid was that? Now it’s too late. I’ll try to avenge ya tho. No one deserves to go the way ya went.”

Bob wailed.

“Bye, buddy.”

Once again, Magalie refused to speak.

“I don’t think you cared all that much about me, but I liked you Flo,” Typhaine said. “I think we all did, in our own way. I’m sad that you’re gone, but I can’t bring you back. So… goodbye.”

“I forgive you too,” Ryoji promised. “You changed a lot recently, you grew to be someone I could admire.”

“You were like a little brother to me,” Jordana admitted. “Bratty and annoying at times, often misguided, but not a bad person all things considered. I feel like I should have been more patient with you.”

She seemed to hesitate.

“I think we can all agree that it was especially cruel to kill you of all people. I don’t really know how to explain it, but… it feels even more unfair than all the other deaths.”

“Like kicking a puppy,” Typhaine offered.

“Like setting a puppy on fire,” Jordana corrected.

She shook her head.

"I think I might be a little angry too."

“So what?” Magalie asked. “Is it revenge time?”

“It might very well be,” Gwenn said threateningly. “Whoever did it, I won’t go easy on you.”

"We're all with you here," Jordana promised.

“Let’s get this thing started, then,” Bob suggested, slamming his fists against one another.

And thus debate began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last occasion to make some predictions before the real fun begins. Who do you think did it? How, and why? Whoever finds out wins a wifi-hug from the writer!


	60. Class Trial 5 - Hail edition

“So how do we start?” Typhaine asked. “Which murder should we focus on first?”

“Becca’s,” Bob suggested. “She died first, and apparently I was there. I’d like to know what the hell’s goin’ on.”

“Before we do that, I have a question for Monoblade,” Jordana said.

“What is it?”

“If I recall, there can only be one execution per murder. But in this case, there are two victims. What if there are two killers? Are we supposed to root them out both?”

“Ah, excellent question,” Monoblade appreciated. “I was wondering when it would come up. Well, it’s quite simple actually. I’m asking you to vote for _a_ murderer by the end of the debate – it doesn’t matter who they murdered, or when. As long as it’s correct, then I’ll execute them, and not you all.”

“But what if there’s actually a second murderer?” Gwenn asked. “Do they get to escape?”

“They sure do.”

“Was the culprit aware of that fact?” Jordana asked. “Is that why they killed Florian, after Rebecca had already died?”

“Maybe. You seriously think I’d tell you such an important hint?”

She shrugged.

“It was worth a try.”

“Well, let’s put our heads together then,” Ryoji suggested. “Can we figure out what happened to Rebecca?”

“Hm, let’s review the basics,” Jordana said. “Do we all agree that she died from falling through the window?”

“I looked at the body, and it seemed like the most logical explanation,” Typhaine supplied. “She had these really large bruises on her back, legs and at the back of her face, and she bit her tongue out when she fell. There’s also her broken bones to take in consideration.”

“Is that so?” Magalie asked. “She fell from the window. That’s the only explanation.”

“Well uh...”

“Haven’t you considered that the culprit could have killed her some other way, and then hurled her body out of the window? It’s certainly within the realm of possibility.”

There was a moment of silence while everybody seemed to ponder that new theory.

“That’s stupid,” Gwenn decided. “What would be the point?”

“I don’t know yet, but I have a few ideas,” Magalie replied.

“Such as?”

“Framing Bob would be a good start. Think about it: the body fell from _his_ window, did it not? Or that’s what it looked like, anyway. The culprit could have also killed Rebecca somewhere else, and then later moved the body to confuse our perception of the crime.”

“Uh...”

“But that doesn’t work,” Jordana objected. “Rebecca had no other fatal injury. Right Typhaine? You didn’t find any cuts or wounds that you’re not telling us about?”

“No, I told you everything. I have the pictures too.”

“See?” Gwenn asked. “Shut up, Magalie. We can solve this case without you.”

“Are you sure about that?” Magalie countered. “Let’s assume Rebecca was strangled. It wouldn’t be so hard to hide the wound with foundation. Jordana has plenty of makeup products, so she could have probably done it.”

“But why?” Bob insisted. “What would be the fuckin’ point?”

“Easy. To make us believe the crime had been committed by someone who could walk up the stairs! Because as it currently stands out, Jordana has a solid alibi, thanks to her wheelchair.”

Magalie then squinted, and placed a finger on her temple in a very dramatic way.

“Unless Jordana’s alibi is a lie? Oh, how dreadful it would be!”

“Shut up,” Jordana barked. “I was stuck in my bed and I could barely move my fingers. Not to mention, even if I _could_ move around, who’d carry the body up the stairs for me?”

“That doesn’t matter all that much,” Magalie replied, sounding uninterested. “You probably found a way to blackmail someone. You usually do. Say, remember that motive we had for Suzie’s trial, about dirty secrets? We haven’t heard _everyone’s_ dirty secret yet. Typhaine’s secret is still unknown, for instance. You could have easily stolen her monopad and threatened to reveal her secret in front of everyone if she didn’t cooperate!”

Ryoji blinked twice. He felt like he was at the bottom of a river, trying to catch a fish which kept slipping from his hands. The debate was going way too fast for him, and absolutely not in the direction he had expected. From what he could gather by looking at his friends’ faces, it looked like they were as lost as him.

Jordana pinched the bridge of her nose.

“For fuck’s sake Magalie,” she said tiredly. “Out of all the stupid arguments-”

“Spend less time complaining, and more time refuting!” Magalie cut in, sounding rather cheerful.

“Ugh, you’re such a pain. Is it how I was before? Is this how it feels to be Jordana’ed?”

“Uh… yeah, pretty much,” Bob admitted.

Typhaine and Gwenn nodded.

“Anyway, I don’t think Jordana could blackmail anyone, especially not Typhaine,” Ryoji said pensively. “Because she relied on us to feed her. It’d be pretty stupid to try to stand against us at a time like this.”

“Meh, I’m not convinced,” Magalie replied, sounding unimpressed. “Typhaine is pretty stupid, so it wouldn’t be very difficult to make her believe she was cornered.”

“Hey, that’s mean!” Typhaine protested.

“Can we… stop talking about this?” Jordana asked. “This entire argument is pointless.”

“I won’t stop until I’m satisfied,” Magalie warned.

“Too bad for you, no one cares,” Gwenn cut in coldly. “Anyway, back to our topic. Yes, we all agree that Rebecca died from the fall. The real question is: who pushed her? Spoiler alert, I think it’s Bob.”

“Uh...” Bob began.

“Are you sure?” Ryoji asked.

“It’s nothing personal Bob,” they said flatly. “But the Furantur made you mad, and we saw you attacking Rebecca plenty of times while you were infected. Not to mention you were still in the room when we found the corpse this morning.”

“Yeah but I was unconscious mate. How was I s’posed to kill Becca if I couldn’t even wake up?”

“Unconscious?” Gwenn repeated.

“A likely story,” Magalie commented.

“Whatdja mean, a likely story? I’m tellin’ the truth! Fuck off!”

“Calm down Bob,” Ryoji pleaded. “Uh… hey, why don’t you tell us what you remember from last night? I don’t think we ever asked for your testimony.”

“I wish I could answer that, but I dun’t remember nuthin’. Last night’s gone from my head. Big empty void.”

“Is it because of the Furantur?” Typhaine asked worriedly. “Did it mess with your head?”

“I ain’t sure, actually. I mean, I _have_ memories from when I was sick, and all them weird hallucinations I saw. But last night is one big blur. I dun’t remember goin’ to bed, or witnessin’ anythin’ at all. All I remember is wakin’ up in that weird hospital, wonderin’ whatever the hell I was doin’ there.”

“Well that’s a bummer,” Typhaine said.

“Extremely convenient I would say,” Magalie corrected.

“Like hell it’s convenient!” Bob protested. “It’s fuckin’ terrifyin’! For all I know I did some absolutely horrible things last night, but I can’t remember one bit!”

“Bob, please calm down,” Typhaine pleaded.

“How can I? D’ya have any idea how it feels to lose yerself completely?”

“I… I don’t,” she admitted meekly.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that, Bob,” Jordana began, “but for now we need to figure out what happened. It’s too soon to declare who’s guilty and who’s not. For one thing, do we even know what Rebecca was doing in the apartment suite last night? She was supposed to stay in quarantine on the 3rd floor, and never get out.”

“But her lock was busted,” Bob recalled. “And there was a mallet right next to it! So ain’t it logical to assume someone simply smashed the lock?”

“Of course it’s logical, but it doesn’t explain anything. Why would anyone smash the lock when they could simply borrow the key from Gwenn? And why did Rebecca leave her cell? She knew that she was potentially infected, and that it would be dangerous to venture outside.”

“Uhm...” Typhaine said uncertainly.

“It’s possible the Furantur had already gotten to her head,” Gwenn reflected. “So when she saw an opportunity, she fled.”

“Well-”

“But why would she go to the apartment suite of all places?” Magalie asked. “What was she looking for? It makes no sense.”

“I dunno!” Gwenn replied in frustration. “Maybe her… hallucinations told her to?”

“Guys, please-” Typhaine mumbled.

“Of course, blame the hallucinations.” (Magalie rolled her eyes). “Next you’re going to say it was divine intervention? Please.”

“Do you have a better idea?”

“Guys!” Ryoji shouted.

All eyes fell onto him.

“I think Typhaine has something to say.”

All eyes fell on Typhaine. She was twisting her hands nervously.

“Uh… well… I might, that is to say, potentially...”

She trailed off.

“Yeah?” Bob asked tentatively. “Is this goin’ anywhere?”

“Don’t trust my attention span when I have a headache,” Jordana warned.

“Guys, please be patient with her,” Ryoji said softly. “Some things aren’t easy to say.”

Typhaine smiled at him, but it was clear she was worried. She took a deep breath.

“I might have… accidentally… been the one who broke the lock on Rebecca’s door. On purpose.”

“Whut?” (Bob squinted). “Why the hell wouldja do that?”

“Interesting,” Magalie said almost at the same time. “So you’re the one responsible for her death.”

Typhaine looked like she had been hit.

“Yes,” she squeaked. “It’s me. It’s my fault.”

She was shaking.

“Calm down,” Jordana said firmly. “Start from the beginning. I assume you had a reason?”

“Y-yes. The thing is, I was out of my room last night… not because I was planning anything fishy!” She hastily added. “It’s just, I couldn’t sleep and I felt weak, so I figured I should eat something. Or… try to anyway. For my baby, y’know?”

She was looking directly at Ryoji, perhaps as a way to seek encouragement. He smiled at her.

“Go on.”

“So I left my room and went to the restaurant. It was around 2 am I think. But as I was about to leave the restaurant a while later, I noticed two people in the parking lot.”

“Who were they?” Bob asked curiously.

“I couldn’t tell. They were a bit far from me, and it was dark. I got scared and hid in the graveyard. They never came for me. I stayed there for quite a while, I don’t know how long. When I finally found the courage, I decided to go back to my room – but I then I thought, what if Bob’s life was in danger?”

“Huh.” (Bob rubbed his elbow) “How thoughtful of ya.”

“So you went to ask Rebecca for help,” Jordana guessed.

“Yeah,” Typhaine admitted in shame. “I stole a mallet from the sports store, and I ran to the 3rd floor right away.”

“And Rebecca trusted you?” Magalie asked, dumbfounded. “What an idiot.”

“She didn’t even hesitate,” Typhaine continued, as if she hadn’t heard anything. “When I told her I had seen some suspicious people wandering near the restaurant, she ran outside immediately.”

“Why didn’t you come with her?” Gwenn asked coldly.

“I know I should have,” Typhaine admitted, her voice breaking. “I was scared, but that’s no excuse.”

“Well, that clears up part of the mystery,” Jordana stated. “We know why Rebecca left her room, and what she was trying to do.”

“It had nothing to do with the Furantur,” Ryoji understood. “She was just trying to help.”

“If Typhaine is telling the truth,, that is,” Magalie said dismissively.

“Huh?”

“What, you’re going to trust her so easily? I have yet to see any evidence that could confirm her story.”

“I’m not a liar!” Typhaine protested.

“Said every liar in history,” Magalie replied impatiently.

“But she has no reason to lie, does she?” Bob asked. “I mean, it’s pretty suspicious t’be out at night like that. I dunno why she’d tell us all that unless it was the truth.”

“You’re all so gullible. I can’t believe we managed to solve any of the previous class trials with such a sorry crew.”

“You’re just messing with us,” Gwenn accused. “You don’t even care about the outcome of the trial, do you?”

“Of course I do!” Magalie replied hotly. “I don’t want to die so stupidly! What would they write on my epitaph, huh? ‘Died because she was stuck with a bunch of morons who couldn’t figure out a murder mystery’?”

“That’d be a cool epitaph actually,” Bob mumbled.

“Back on topic,” Jordana said forcefully, articulating each word with care. “Let’s file Typhaine’s story under ‘reasonable hypothesis’ for now, and leave it at that. We have more important questions to answer.”

“Agreed!” Magalie said cheerfully. “Like for example how Bob managed to beat a killing machine like Rebecca with his wimpy-ass arms!”

“Hey!” Bob complained. “My arms ain’t wimpy!”

“Uh Bob, that’s not the part you’re supposed to deny,” Ryoji said in embarrassment.

“Why do you assume it’s Bob anyway?” Jordana asked. “The investigation revealed that the apartment suite’s front door had a busted lock. If it really was the scene of the crime, then the culprit could be anyone strong enough to swing a mallet.”

“Yeah, she’s right!” Gwenn agreed. “Rebecca might have actually bumped into the two suspicious people that Typhaine saw, right? It’s not implausible.”

“You’re forgetting an important detail,” Magalie countered smugly.

“Am I now? And what is that super important detail?”

“I won’t tell unless you beg.”

“I… what?”

“Beg. That’s the only condition.”

Gwenn shot Magalie a disgusted glare, then sighed.

“Jordie? Ryo? You have any idea what she’s talking about?”

“Not really,” Jordana admitted. “Perhaps she’s referring to the plank on the door…?”

“Precisely!” (Magalie clapped her hands) “Ten points for the smart lady in the wheelchair!”

“But I still don’t get your point,” Jordana objected. “What does that change?”

“You seriously don’t get it? How disappointing. Maybe Ryoji gets it?”

“Or maybe ya could just fuckin’ make yer argument yerself,” Bob snapped. “Instead of actin’ like a fuckin’ child.”

Magalie’s smile vanished.

“Fine. If you’re all _that_ stupid, I might as well spell it out for you.”

She pushed her braid behind her back with a nonchalant wave of the hand, then cleared her throat.

“The reason I only suspect Bob is quite simple. Last night, he and Rebecca were alone in a locked room. No one else could get in, or out – therefore, he’s the only one who could have killed Rebecca. It’s simple logic.”

“But it makes no sense,” Jordana objected. “You have no way of knowing when that plank was nailed to the door. For all you know, it happened long after Rebecca was killed.”

“It couldn’t have,” Magalie replied calmly. “Because when Rebecca walked into the room, the plank was already in place.”

Jordana blinked.

“What?”

“Okay, wait, can we slow down a bit?” Bob asked. “I’m gettin’ confused.”

“Same here,” Typhaine admitted.

“Ugh. You’re all so slow,” Magalie complained.

“Let’s rewind a bit,” Ryoji offered. “That should make things clearer.”

“Fine,” Jordana said. “Let’s put ourselves in Rebecca’s shoes. She’s on the 3rd floor, her lock has just been broken, and she’s on a rescue mission. She leaves Typhaine behind, then rushes toward the restaurant. Where does she go next?”

“The kitchen?” Typhaine tried.

“Upstairs?” Bob suggested.

“It’s hardly relevant,” Magalie said in a bored tone.

“How on earth is it hardly relevant?” Jordana asked angrily. “You’re making no sense at all!”

“Of course I am. By the time Rebecca reached the restaurant, the two suspicious individuals that Typhaine noticed were already gone. She could have visited every room one by one if she wanted, she wouldn’t have bumped into anyone.”

“Oh, so _now_ you believe in their existence?” Gwenn asked, exasperated.

“I might, I might not,” Magalie replied evasively. “At any rate, whoever blocked the door by fixing a plank to it had already left. That I’m certain of.”

“The door was blocked from the outside,” Typhaine said pensively. “So the culprit had no way of going back in after they were done with their job.”

“But you said there were two people,” Gwenn argued. “Even if one of them went outside to seal the door, the other one could have hid inside, right?”

“I suppose… but when you opened the door this morning, you only found Bob, didn’t you?”

“Oh, right. That’s true.”

“Hold on, maybe there _was_ another person in the room ‘sides me,” Bob argued. “Maybe they were hidin’ in the bathroom or sumethin’, and while the two of ya were distracted, they ran away!”

“That’s impossible,” Ryoji replied. “We would have noticed them leaving.”

“Oh. I guess.”

“But still,” Jordana insisted. “There’s no reason to believe the door was locked _after_ the murder took place. It’s much more logical to assume that Rebecca walked into Bob’s room, was assaulted by the mystery culprit, and pushed through the window. Then they left and sealed the entrance. That scenario is consistent with the evidence we found at the scene, isn’t it?”

“It makes sense to me,” Gwenn said with confidence.

“Magalie, you don’t know what you’re talking about!” Typhaine accused.

 _“_ _Obviously_ she doesn’t, she’s just messing with us.”

“I’m not messing with you,” Magalie objected calmly. “I’ll repeat myself as many times as I need: by the time Rebecca entered the room, the culprit was already gone.”

“They were already gone, and they had already sealed the entrance?” Jordana asked for confirmation.

“Most likely.”

“But that’s just stupid. If the door was sealed, how did Rebecca get in?”

“Are you saying there’s some kind of secret passage?” Typhaine asked excitedly.

“Of course not.” (Magalie rejected the theory with a dismissive hand gesture) “Come on, surely you can do better than that?”

“Well...” Bob began uncertainly. “Maybe Becca found a way to remove the plank herself, and then the culprit came later to put it back in place?”

“No, if that were the case it would have left traces in the wall, and we would have noticed during the investigation,” Jordana countered.

“Indeed, you probably would have,” Magalie agreed.

“Then what is it?” Gwenn asked in frustration. “Why won’t you just tell-”

“Oh I know!” Ryoji suddenly shouted, hitting his palm with his fist. “She came in through the window!”

“She _what?”_

“Izzat even possible?” Bob asked with a frown.

“Of course it is!” Typhaine said passionately. “Rebecca was an athlete! I have no doubt she could pull it off. She was the strongest among us!”

“But uh… athlete or not, the wall is quite high,” Bob observed. “I mean duh. If it weren’t high, the fall wouldn’t have killed ‘er.”

“Besides, what would be the point?” Gwenn asked. “Even if she _could_ somehow pull it off, which I seriously doubt, wouldn’t it be much easier to just grab a tool and remove the plank herself?”

Ryoji kept smiling, but he was also a little sweaty. It made him nervous to hear so many rebuttals all at once. So much that he briefly considered backing down and letting the others resume the debate without him.

But then Ferdinand’s image drew itself in his brain. Ryoji remembered well how the man had helped him during the previous trial, constantly encouraging him to speak up, silencing the others when necessary. Remembering his kindness made Ryoji feel sad, but it also gave him courage.

_I wouldn’t want to disappoint him, would I?_

“I understand your doubts,” he said, trying to sound firm. “But there _is_ evidence to support my theory.”

“Really?” Jordana asked pensively.

She took out her monopad and began to scroll through the pictures shared on the group chat.

“What kind of evidence?” Bob asked.

“The tables that we found in the parking lot, for one thing. When we found them this morning, one of them was broken and another had toppled sideways, but I believe they were originally stacked together to form a pyramid.”

“Oh, I see!” Typhaine said enthusiastically. “That way Rebecca could give herself a lift!”

“Even with three tables, she wouldn’t be high enough to reach the window,” Gwenn objected. “Far from it, even.”

“That’s true, but the wall isn’t at all smooth. There are plenty of bumps that you can grab onto, and from there it’s easy to climb all the way up. Well, it’s easy if you’re an athlete I assume. It’s not like any of us could pull it off.”

Gwenn didn’t seem convinced.

“There’s also all the bricks that fell on the ground,” Ryoji added helpfully. “I’m pretty sure they weren’t there before. They must have been dislodged when Rebecca climbed!”

“That’s one explanation,” Gwenn replied dismissively. “But those bricks could have also fallen when Rebecca was pushed out of the window. Assuming her body hit the wall at least once, it would be enough to damage the wall.”

“More importantly, even if Rebecca _did_ climb that wall, how did she get inside my room?” Bob asked in confusion. “The window’s handle is on the inside, not the outside.”

“She’d be stuck,” Typhaine realized. “She could see what was happening inside, but she couldn’t get in.”

“Not necessarily,” Jordana chimed in.

“How so?” Gwenn asked.

“I’m looking through Ryoji’s investigation report,” she explained as she showed everyone her screen.

It featured the picture of the big rock Ryoji had found on the floorboards.

“Oh,” he said. “Oh!”

“Oh?” Bob asked. “Wha’s the ‘oh’ about?”

“I couldn’t understand what that rock was doing there, but it all makes sense now! You’re a genius Jordie.”

“I know,” she replied with a faint smile.

“Well, do you mind explaining to the morons over there?” Gwenn asked grumpily.

“Sure thing!” Ryoji replied in excitement. “See, Rebecca was smart. She realized she couldn’t open the window from the outside, so she threw a rock at it!”

“She threw a fucking rock at a window?” (Gwenn seemed to hardly believe it). “How crazy was this woman?”

“I think the word you’re looking for is ‘barbaric’,” Magalie supplied.

“Tha’s all well and good, but the window is too fuckin’ high,” Bob argued. “I get that she was strong, but that jus’ sounds a lil’ far-fetched to me.”

“Don’t forget that she was standing on a pyramid of tables at the time,” Jordana reminded him. “Besides, it wouldn’t matter if she missed. She could try again as many times as she wanted until she got it right.”

“She _was_ quite stubborn,” Typhaine admitted.

“Naturally, the evidence in the apartment suite fits with Ryoji’s hypothesis,” Magalie asserted. “The hole in the window was roughly the size of the rock that was thrown, and the glass shards fell on the floorboards just below.”

“I can’t believe it,” Gwenn said in astonishment. “I can’t believe she went out there and did something so crazy. It’s completely insane.”

“For once, I must agree with you,” Magalie admitted. “The evidence speaks quite clearly, but it still doesn’t explain why Rebecca would do something so irrational.”

A yellow butterfly landed on her shoulder. She eyed it with absolute disdain, as if she was contemplating the idea of killing it.

“Not like it matters though. Because now thanks to Ryoji’s logic, we know who the culprit is.”

“We do?” Typhaine asked, dumbfounded.

“Of course we do,” Magalie snapped. “Have you even been paying attention?”

She turned around to face her podium neighbor, and stuck her index finger in his chest.

“It’s you Bob. Now’s the time to answer for your crime.”


	61. Class Trial 5 - Thunder edition

“Huh?” Bob said in fear and confusion. “Hey now, hold on a second-”

Magalie retracted her arm, and the tension in her body seemed to melt at once. At the same time, Bob seemed to freeze in place, as if his blood had turned to ice.

“Of course I’ll hold on a second, Bob,” Magalie said with forced kindness. “In fact, I’ll be waiting for your rebuttal. I assume you have one?”

He gave her a rather helpless look.

“Take your time,” she said with a smile.

Five seconds passed in silence. Bob’s face was scrunched in intense concentration. Fifteen seconds later, he began to sweat. He gave up after a full minute.

“I dun’t understand why yer sayin’ I’m the culprit,” he admitted shamefully.

Magalie chuckled.

“You’re such a simple man, aren’t you Bob? This whole trial business is probably going over your head. When faced with a problem, your default reaction is to punch it, right? You’re not cut out for all these intellectual shenanigans. It’s okay, you know! We all have our strengths and weaknesses, after all.”

“Shut up,” he growled, sweating more and more as the tension rose. “I mean… sorry. Please, can ya explain why yer sayin’ I’m the culprit?”

“Of course, it will be my pleasure. I’ll try to make it simple, so that you don’t feel too lost, right? Or better yet, let’s have Ryoji explain!”

“Me?” Ryoji repeated in a tiny voice.

“Why yes, I think you’re more than capable of it. After all, you’re the one who explained the situation to us – all I’m asking is that you bring your argument to its natural conclusion.”

Now Ryoji was beginning to sweat as well.

“Take your time,” Magalie repeated.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, won’t you cut it out?” Jordana shouted in anger. “Bob and Rebecca were the only people in the room – that’s why he has to be the culprit. There, are you happy?”

Magalie pretended to hesitate.

“It’s just… I’m afraid _Robert_ will miss the point if you go too fast. You have to give him the bite-sized version, you see?”

“Please dun’t call me that!” Bob yelled, in pure anguish. “Why the fuck wouldja call me by my real name?”

Magalie didn’t bother to reply. Gwenn seized the opportunity to jump into the conversation.

“Okay, hold on. The only thing we proved was that Rebecca climbed the wall to get in, right? What’s that got to do with Bob being the culprit?”

“Think about it,” Jordana said. “Rebecca wouldn’t have had to climb the wall if the front door had been opened, right? The mere fact that she chose such a complex route proves that the door had already been blocked when she arrived.”

“But that doesn’t answer my previous question!” Gwenn protested. “Why didn’t she simply remove the plank?”

“I have a theory,” Jordana replied carefully. “I can’t prove it, but I believe Rebecca sensed a trap. She had been told that there was suspicious activity in this area, and the plank might have seemed like too big a bait.”

“Oh, you think that’s the reason?” Magalie asked curiously. “That’s interesting. She might have been cleverer than I gave her credit for.”

Magalie shrugged.

“Still not clever enough, but oh well. Intelligence or strength, you can’t always have both.”

“Stop insulting the dead!” Typhaine ordered, clearly scandalized.

“Fine. But now do we all agree on our conclusion? There can only be one culprit, and it’s Rob-”

“No!” Bob yelled. “I refuse to hear that!”

“Ugh. And on what grounds do you base your refusal? Do you even have a reason?”

“Of course I do! Yer tryin’ to mess with my brain with all yer fancy talk, but there’s a big hole in yer argument, dumbass!”

“Is there?” Magalie asked with genuine curiosity. “What are you talking about?”

“Yer sayin’ the reason Becca climbed that wall is cuz she found the plank on the door and couldn’t get in. But before the culprit nailed that plank in there, the door was _already_ locked, wasn’t it?”

“That’s right!” Gwenn chimed in. “And I’m the only one who could open it!”

“There!” Bob shouted triumphantly. “So who’s to say Becca didn’t climb the wall simply cuz the door was locked? She didn’t want to wake Gwenn, but the culprits came up later and killed her before she could get in!”

“That’s not a bad counter-argument,” Magalie admitted. “But it’s still insufficient. When Rebecca saw the plank on your door, she must have figured out that something was afoot. But if the door had simply been locked, she wouldn’t have had any reason to break in, would she? It would not have seemed particularly strange, and besides, she knew that you could be dangerous – she wouldn’t have walked in without a reason.”

“Well- maybe she heard some noise comin’ from the inside o’ my room?”

“Absurd. That would mean that the culprit was already inside, wouldn’t it? In which case, the door wouldn’t be locked, and Rebecca wouldn’t have to climb her way in.”

Bob opened his mouth to argue some more, but seemed to have run out of ideas. He was grunting in pain and fear like a wounded dog, to Magalie’s clear delight.

“Fuck,” Jordana whispered. “This case is really airtight. No matter how much I look at it, I can’t think of any other possibility.”

“No,” Bob said in despair. “That can’t be it! I can’t have… I wouldn’t...”

“You wouldn’t what?” Magalie asked brutally. “Are you about to say you wouldn’t kill her? Are you sincerely about to invoke that specific argument?”

“I...”

“You were insane. Delirious. Your hallucinations made you hate Rebecca – we all witnessed how violent you were toward her. If there’s one thing we can’t doubt, it’s your motive.”

“But like...”

Bob was pulling on his own hair like a mad man.

“There’s gotta be sum’thin’,” he reasoned, eyes beginning to get wet. “Sum’ kinda explanation. Anythin’, I dunno!”

“There might be,” Magalie admitted. “Why don’t you tell us what you think? And naturally, don’t forget to produce evidence. It’d look bad if you didn’t have any.”

“Why are you bullying him?” Typhaine asked in anger. “Is this funny to you?”

“Bullying? I’m just trying to help him. I don’t particularly enjoy accusing him, but this is still a murder trial. If he’s truly innocent, he has to defend himself.”

“But look how much it’s hurting him!”

“Yes, it’s tragic. He killed someone, and it’s not even his fault! I truly sympathize with your plight, Robert, but you have to accept the truth. We won’t be able to get anywhere if you don’t.”

“You disgust me,” Jordana said with venom.

“Oh? I disgust you? Well it seems like _someone_ is awfully eager to forget their past behavior. I wonder who it could possibly be.”

“Shut up.”

Gwenn sighed.

“Stop bickering you two. As much as I hate to admit it, Magalie’s right. This case is pretty much settled – no one else but Bob could have killed Rebecca.”

Ryoji’s heart was racing. He felt like he was watching an absurd show on television, in a language he didn’t speak, with no ability to intervene or switch the channel. He was desperately trying to think, but his brain refused to cooperate. Each of his boyfriend’s sobs sent a needle in his heart.

“Why did this happen?” Bob sniveled, snot running down his nose. “I never wanted to kill no one. And Becca… she fuckin’ saved my life!”

“It’s so unfair,” Typhaine muttered, sticking her hands together in a prayer gesture. “Lord, have mercy on him.”

“It’s okay Bob, this isn’t the end!” Magalie said gently. “Did you already forget this was a double murder? Maybe we’ll find a second culprit for Florian’s murder, and with a little luck, they will be executed instead of you!”

“That’s a fucked-up thing to say,” Gwenn observed.

“It’s true though. I mean, we all like Bob, don’t we? The friendly hobo man with the funny accent? Besides, if we choose to execute him, it’ll make us look bad, since he’s poor. We don’t want to look like bourgeois scum in front of the audience.”

“Why...”

Ryoji had begun to talk, but he didn’t know what he wanted to say. There was a knot in his throat, and a strange feeling rising up in his stomach like bile.

“Why are you saying these things?”

“Why should I not?” Magalie asked innocently.

“Because… because… it’s ugly!”

“Ryo, Ryo, Ryo. Insulting people really doesn’t suit you. Why don’t you go back to being your usual mushy self? Give someone a hug, perhaps that’ll make you feel bett-”

“This case isn’t over yet!” Ryoji shouted.

Two birds which had been standing on a nearby tree flew away.

“Really now? What makes you say that?”

“There’s still plenty of evidence we haven’t even looked at! We don’t even know the identity of the suspicious individuals that Typhaine saw. How could this case be closed?”

“You’re talking about those old ropes lying around?” Magalie asked dismissively. “Who cares about those?”

“Ryo...” Gwenn said with a sigh. “I get that you want to defend your boyfriend, but what’s the point in discussing that? Rebecca and Bob were alone in a locked room. Bob killed Rebecca and that’s final. There’s no other explanation.”

“How can you say that, when there’s so much we don’t know?”

“Even if we wreck our brains trying to figure it out, it won’t change the conclusion!” Gwenn protested. “So can we stop talking about this already? I want to know who killed Florian.”

“But-”

“Ryo, it’s fine,” Bob said quietly. “I appreciate yer help, but I gotta learn when I’m beat. Gwenn’s right, we gotta move on.”

“But...”

“It’s just gonna make it worse if ya fight for me. Please, I’m jus’… tired.”

“Bob! You can’t just say that!”

“He just did,” Gwenn said dryly. “We’re moving on.”

“Yay!” Magalie said excitedly, clapping her hands. “Okay, let’s discuss Florian’s death, shall we? I think the cause of death is the fire-”

“FUCK OFF!” Ryoji yelled at the top of his lungs.

Magalie froze, looking startled. Everyone fell silent, and it was no wonder – no one had ever seen Ryoji getting angry before.

But Ryoji wasn’t simply angry – he was shaking with rage. His hatred was rising up in his throat, like a thick and bulbous hot liquid, threatening to overflow. He had raised his enormous hands in the air and was clutching the air with his remaining fingers, as if he were trying to strangle it. For the first time, his sheer size and bulk were actually intimidating.

“What in the world is wrong with you all?” He spat. “Have you all gone mad?”

The podiums had been arranged so that Magalie would be facing him directly. She was staring at him with a mixture of fear and defiance. He pointed his finger at her aggressively.

“Magalie, I sincerely have no idea what’s going on with you, but you’ve definitely crossed the line. I don’t know what you’re trying to do, and I don’t care. Your behavior is simply intolerable, and no amount of hardship can excuse this.”

“I was only trying to help.”

“Shut your mouth!” He roared. “You dare lie to me, even after all of this? You think I’m that stupid? All you’ve done since the beginning of this trial is trying to confuse and hurt us. No, it’s been happening for days! It’s about time you face justice for what you’ve done!”

She didn’t have the courage to reply. Ryoji wasn’t done. He turned his attention to Gwenn, who seemed to melt under the intensity of his glare.

“And you Gwenn, how could you be so selfish? Being upset by Florian’s death does not give you the right to rush Rebecca’s trial, and it does not give you the right to trample Bob’s feelings! Who do you think you are?”

“Sorry,” Gwenn mumbled. “Please don’t shout.”

“And you two!” Ryoji added, staring alternatively between Typhaine and Jordana. “You were going to let this slide?”

He extended his arms, opening his palms toward the sky.

“Is this how we’ve run trials before? Is this how we honor our friends? We’ve always made it a priority to figure out everything that happened to them. Even when it seemed painful or utterly pointless, we’ve always gotten to the bottom of things. Why would this case be any different? Typhaine, you were the one who asked that we honor the dead one last time, by expressing our goodbyes. But now you’re ready to bury the secret of Rebecca’s death, and never look at it again? Shame on you!”

“I’m sorry,” Typhaine cried, covering her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

“Ryo, you need to calm down,” Jordana said, sounding alarmed.

“If I calm down, who will point out this injustice?” He retorted. “You? I thought I could trust you, but you said nothing!”

“I get it!” She protested in exasperation. “I get your point, and we’ll get to it, but please stop yelling! You’re… scaring us a little.”

“Well I- huh?”

Ryoji felt like she had dumped a bucket of cold water on his face. He felt something tugging at his sleeve, and realized that Bob had moved from his spot to hug him. He was crying very quietly, clearly incapable of uttering a single word.

The others weren’t doing any better. Staring at his friends one by one, Ryoji saw their faces distorted by fear, shock and pain, including Magalie’s. It was a little unnerving – Ryoji had never held so much power over someone before. He didn’t even consider himself capable of hurting anyone – to realize that he actually could, and that it wasn’t even _hard_ completely shook him. He felt like a prisoner who had been given a very powerful and destructive weapon – though freedom was finally at hand, it was at the cost of so much desolation that it hardly seemed worth it.

“I-” He began.

“Don’t apologize,” Jordana cut in hastily. “We deserved to hear everything you said.”

“And probably more,” Gwenn added guiltily. “You’re right, I’ve been selfish. I apologize for this.”

“It’s fair play,” Magalie admitted.

“No!” He protested. “I mean… no. I didn’t want to hurt any of you. I’m sorry I yelled.”

“You’re sorry you yelled?” Gwenn repeated with a hollow chuckle. “Dude, I almost killed you a trial ago. You have every reason to yell at me.”

“And at me too,” Typhaine admitted.

“To be fair, I expected this to happen sooner,” Jordana said casually.

Ryoji wrapped his arms around Bob, suddenly feeling a wave of exhaustion rushing over him.

“Let’s just return to our topic,” he suggested. “We need to figure out the full extent of what happened to Rebecca.”

“We do,” Jordana agreed. “But first, can we take a little break?”

“Seriously?” Monoblade asked. “You barely solved anything, and you already want a break?”

“Yes,” she replied defiantly.

“If you wanted us to be more efficient at crime solving, you shouldn’t have put us through a month of psychological torture,” Gwenn said dejectedly.

“Can’t argue with that,” Monoblade admitted.

“While you’re at it, care to bring us some food?” Jordana asked. “We haven’t had a chance to eat anything today.”

“Ugh. Fine, I’ll give you kids… an hour I guess. But this the last time, got it?”

“Yay,” Gwenn said in a joyless voice. “It’s picnic time.”


	62. Class Trial 5 - Snow Edition

Once they had eaten, Ryoji and Bob chose to spend their break time away from the rest of the group. Removing their shoes and socks, they sat next to the stream, and dipped their feet in the water. Bob was resting on Ryoji’s knees, who was massaging his shoulders carefully.

“Was I a good boyfriend?” Bob eventually asked.

“Why the past tense? You’re not going to die, Bob.”

“Ya can’t really be sure… but ‘kay, I’ll humor ya. Am I a good boyfriend?”

“You are the best boyfriend I could have possibly dreamed of,” Ryoji said, kissing the back of his forehead.

“And if I were bad, wouldja tell me?”

“Of course. I shouldn’t keep that from you.”

Bob put one hand in the grass, and ripped out a handful of weeds.

“Then why do I get the sense that yer super angry at me right now?”

Ryoji blinked. Not only was it surprising to hear it being said upfront, he realized that Bob wasn’t wrong.

“I just don’t like when you give up on yourself like that,” he admitted with a wince. “It’s the second time by now, and it hurts me every time.”

“Last time was different,” Bob argued. “When Lucien accused me o’ killin’ Lisa, I knew I hadn’t dunnit. By all means, I shoulda done sumethin’, I shoulda defended meself better. But this case I really can’t tell. It’s true, Furantur me coulda dunnit. And since I dun’t remember shit about last night...”

“That’s precisely why I believe you’re innocent,” Ryoji said softly. “You remember everything else, don’t you? If the case were so simple, there would be no reason for you to lose your memory of it.”

“I wish I could share yer confidence.”

Ryoji hugged him.

“I’ll show you,” he promised. “I’ll reveal the full truth, for everyone’s sake.”

“Ya really grew up, haven’t cha?” Bob observed with a faint smile. “Yer confidence is one o’ the most beautiful things about ya.”

Ryoji felt himself becoming red.

After that, they both lied down in the grass, and Ryoji fell asleep. Bob woke him up as the trial was about to resume.

  
  


**

  
  


“So,” Typhaine said with a yawn. “Where were we?”

“We asserted that Rebecca came into Bob’s room only after the suspicious individuals had already left,” Jordana replied. “Now I think it would be good to try and figure out what those people were doing in the first place.”

“Whatever it is, they made one hell of a mess,” Gwenn commented as they re-watched the pictures they had taken on the scene. “And they brought a ton of junk with them too.”

“Were they trying to kill Bob?” Typhaine wondered. “Maybe they were planning to strangle him with one of the ropes!”

“It seems more likely that they wanted to hang him,” Jordana observed. “Judging from the fact that they tied one of the ropes into a noose.”

“It’s also possible they planned to use the ropes in order to escape through the window,” Magalie reflected. “They could easily tie one of them around the window’s handle, and simply climb down.”

“That doesn’t seem likely,” Ryoji countered. “The ropes were too short for that – and besides, they would have had no way of getting rid of it afterwards.”

“How many ropes were there already?” Bob asked. “I forgot.”

“Two,” Ryoji replied. “One of them was on the floor, and tied into a noose. The other one was tied around the door handle, and to something else at the other end, though I’m not sure what.”

“That’s really weird,” Gwenn reflected. “What were they trying to do?”

“Wait a second,” Jordana said, squinting at her monopad. “I’m reading here that one of those ropes was covered in… honey? Am I reading this right?”

“You are,” Ryoji confirmed. “It’s as weird as it sounds. We found some of that honey on Rebecca’s hands as well.”

“Huh. So we can assume Rebecca touched one of the ropes. Why though?”

“We can’t really answer that question until we figure out what the ropes were for,” Magalie asserted.

“Well duh, that’s what we’ve been trying to do this whole time,” Gwenn said, rolling their eyes.

“I really think they were just trying to kill Bob,” Typhaine muttered.

“Tha’ wouldn’t surprise me,” Bob admitted. “But the question is: why didn’t it work? I was asleep in my room and shackled. Couldn’t do shit to defend meself.”

“That’s a good point,” Magalie observed. “If they wanted you dead, it would hardly have been a challenge. Maybe they simply gave up on their plan mid-way?”

“Why would they do that, after they had gotten through the trouble of preparing so much stuff?” Gwenn asked in disbelief.

“It’s possible Rebecca arrived on the scene sooner than we thought,” Magalie suggested. “Maybe they gazed through the window and saw her in the parking lot, running toward their location. Realizing this would be pretty bad for them if they were witnessed in the act, they chose to give up on everything and flee.”

“That would make sense,” Typhaine admitted. “Maybe that’s why we can’t figure out their plan: because they simply didn’t have time to finish.”

“Why would they bother blocking the door though?” Jordana objected. “That doesn’t seem like the wisest choice if they were in a hurry.”

“What are you suggesting?” Magalie asked.

“I think they left long before Rebecca’s arrival. Whatever business they had in that room, it was finished by the time she came up.”

“How can you say that?” Gwenn asked in confusion. “It’s clearly unfinished. I mean, Bob is standing right there! Or are you about to suggest they didn’t plan on murdering him at all?”

“What else could compel them to break into his room in the middle of the night?” Magalie asked, tilting her head.

“Perhaps they weren’t planning a direct murder,” Jordana said carefully. “Maybe they wanted to set a trap in the room.”

“A trap?” Typhaine asked. “What kind of trap?”

“Recall the motive we’ve been given. Most of us were plagued with a dangerous illness, and offered a cure in exchange for a murder. Everyone benefits from the cure, regardless of who kills who, correct?”

“I’m with you so far,” Ryoji said.

“But as we all know, killing someone is rather risky. No one has managed to get away with murder so far, and the executions are extremely brutal. So what if one of us wanted there to be a murder, but not to become the culprit themselves?”

“Oh!” Typhaine said in understanding. “Kinda like what Gwenn was trying to do in the previous trial!”

“Don’t remind me,” they said in shame.

“It would make sense, but I don’t see how this changes any of our previous conclusions,” Magalie commented.

“What do you mean?” Jordana asked.

“If the culprit wanted to force someone else to commit a murder, the easiest way to do so would have been to free Bob from his room. He nearly killed Ryoji and Rebecca the first time he escaped, didn’t he? The Furantur itself would become the murder weapon.”

“Which would explain why his shackles were broken!” Gwenn suddenly realized. “The culprits wanted to make it easier for him, so they gave him all the chances they could!”

“That reminds me, how _did_ they break my shackles in the first place?” Bob asked.

“Oh, I know this one!” Typhaine said, bouncing in place. “Pick me!”

“Sure. D’ya know the answer, Typh’?”

“Yes! I mean, I believe I do. When Ryoji and me investigated the workshop, we found out that a pair of shears went missing!”

“We can’t prove that they were used to break your shackles, but it would make a lot of sense,” Ryoji completed. “Especially since the workshop was right next to your room – the culprit would have had no trouble obtaining it.”

“You have to admit, the fact that the shackles were broken gives credence to my theory,” Magalie added. “Why else would the culprit need to do that? If they wanted to kill Bob, it would have been easier to kill him while he couldn’t move.”

“Good point,” Typhaine admitted.

“I don’t buy it,” Jordana said firmly.

“Eh? Why?”

“Simple. If the culprit really wanted Bob to kill someone, why not give him a weapon? It’s not so easy to kill someone with your bare fists, and the victim would be likely to defend themselves.”

“They _did_ give him a weapon,” Gwenn countered. “The ropes!”

“That… wouldn’t really work really well, would it?” Bob asked uncertainly. “Furantur me would have confused them with some nasty snakes or sum shit, and prolly refused to use ‘em.”

“Not to mention, there are plenty of more effective weapons around the place,” Jordana stated. “Javelins and mallets, and of course the knives.”

“Wait, wait,” Gwenn said, holding a hand against their temple. “I think I got it. Maybe the culprit _did_ give Bob a weapon, but left the scene and came back later to remove it so we wouldn’t suspect a thing!”

There was a short moment of silence, during which everyone looked embarrassed.

“Ryoji, can you tell them please?” Jordana asked politely. “I don’t think I could summarize all the flaws in that theory without sounding harsh.”

“Oh boy,” Gwenn said, sweating.

“Uh… sure,” Ryoji accepted. “Well for starters, there’s the results of Typhaine’s autopsy,” he said kindly, showing Gwenn the pictures on his monopad while he spoke. “If Rebecca had been attacked with a weapon of some sort, there should be a corresponding wound, right? But there was nothing of the sort on her body.”

“But there _was_ though,” Gwenn insisted stubbornly. _“Juste là regarde,_ isn’t that a laceration on her hand?”

Ryoji squinted.

“Oh yeah! I guess you’re right. Wait, what does it mean?”

“It means Bob must have been equipped with a knife, at the very least!”

“No, it doesn’t,” Jordana said flatly.

“Why?” Gwenn asked, exasperated.

“Because we already know how Rebecca injured her hand. I mean… at least I do. Please tell me I’m not the only one who figured it out?”

For a while, no one said anything. Later, Typhaine raised her hand.

“The window, right?”

“Exactly,” Jordana approved, smiling.

“What dja mean, the window?” Bob asked.

“It’s true, we didn’t fully explain that earlier. Well, remember that Rebecca had to climb her way into your room, right? She threw a stone at the window and broke the glass. But the window was still closed, so she had to stick her hand through the crack and operate the handle from the inside. With me so far?”

“Yeah, I can picture it.”

“Well, upon doing that, it seems like Rebecca injured her hand on the glass. That’s why Ryoji found blood on the glass and around the handle, among with little drops all over the floorboards.”

“Oh,” Ryoji said. “That’s what this means?”

“I think so. It seems logical to me anyway.”

“Who else could it have been anyway?” Typhaine asked.

“Not me, my hands are fine,” Bob said as he showed everyone his palms to prove it.

“What about the culprit?” Gwenn asked, suddenly sounding suspicious. “For all we know, _they_ could have injured their hands on the window. Magalie, you wish to explain those bandages on your left hand?”

“No,” she said neutrally.

“That… is interesting,” Jordana admitted. “But still, I doubt that anyone besides Rebecca could have injured their hands on the window. The culprit arrived before her after all, and the window wasn’t broken yet at the time.”

“It’s settled then,” Magalie decided. “We can’t spend hours arguing every single detail, or we’ll never get anywhere.”

“How convenient for you!” Gwenn spat.

“Anyway, what next?” She continued, completely ignoring them.

“If y’all dun’t mind, I’d like to know what the hell was with all the duct tape,” Bob requested, rubbing his elbow uncertainly.

“Good idea,” Jordana approved. “It’s been bothering me for a while too.”

Ryoji looked at the pictures again.

“There were several pieces of tape on the wall, most of them ripped up,” he asserted. “The rest were on Bob’s body and clothes.”

“Some of the pieces on the wall were very high up,” Typhaine added. “I couldn’t reach them even with my arms raised!”

“You couldn’t?” Ryoji asked in surprise.

“Of course _you_ would have no problem at all,” Jordana said with a smile.

“Additionally, the tape was very hard to rip,” Gwenn commented.

“How do you know that?” Magalie asked curiously.

“Because I tried to rip a piece during the investigation. But it was so thick that I couldn’t do it.”

“Why would you do that?”

Gwenn shrugged.

“I wondered what could have ripped the other pieces that were still on the wall. See, if I can’t do it manually, then that means the culprit would have to use some kind of tool, right?”

“Why do you assume the culprit is the one who ripped the tape?” Jordana asked curiously.

“Uh...”

“It’s more likely that they applied in the first place. They would have no reason to destroy their own setup.”

“We don’t really know that,” Magalie argued. “We don’t know what the tape was for.”

“Then let’s discuss it!” Typhaine suggested. “Let’s gather ideas, and we’re bound to figure it out eventually!”

“Sure, I’ll start,” Bob said. “Uh… maybe the culprit wanted to restrict my movements? Make sure I dun’t start attackin’ them or sum’ shit?”

“They had ropes at their disposal though,” Magalie argued. “Seems like an easier choice.”

“Well fuck if I know. Ya have a better idea?”

“Maybe they were trying to conceal something by taping it to the wall. And later they removed the tape in order to use whatever that object was.”

“But why go through all that trouble when they could have simply hid it in the bathroom?” Jordana asked.

“I dunno. What do you think it was?”

“It feels to me like the duct tape was used to stick Bob to the wall,” Jordana replied, her brows furrowed. “Judging from the height of the bits of tape, he would be suspended in mid-air. Though to be honest, I have no idea why the culprit would do something so weird.”

“Eh? But why woudlja suggest that if ya didn’t see the point?” Bob asked in confusion.

“It’s because some of the tape ended up on your clothes. It’s like a puzzle: put the pieces together and you get the full picture.”

“And the full picture is… me bein’ stuck to the wall like a painting?”

Jordana bit her thumb.

“It’s certainly weird, I won’t try to deny it. But I don’t see any other way for the torn tape to appear on your body like that.”

“There must be a reason then,” Ryoji decided.

“Really?” Gwenn asked dubiously. “Maybe the culprit is just messing with us.”

“Again, let’s just reason it out!” Typhaine said energetically. “What could be the benefits of suspending Bob in mid-air like that?”

“Think crazy,” Jordana recommended. “I have a feeling this is one wacky murder plot, so don’t hesitate to go all out with your theories.”

“Uh… m’kay,” Gwenn said uncertainly. “Maybe… the culprit hoped that by being up in the air like that, Bob would be concealed?”

“In what world would that conceal me?” Bob asked in astonishment. “I’d stick out like a sore thumb!”

“Not sure. I mean, the crime probably took place at night, right? And the tape is black. People rarely think to look up when they search a place.”

“That might have worked if Bob had been much higher up,” Jordana said pensively. “But as it stands, I don’t think that’s the answer.”

“I got it!” Typhaine suddenly shouted. “They planned to kill someone by flooding the room, but they didn’t want to kill Bob, so they elevated him so he wouldn’t drown!”

“If they wanted to do that, they would have just… moved him to another room,” Magalie said dismissively.

“Oh. You’re probably right.”

“We should keep our eyes on the evidence,” Gwenn reminded her. “That’s all we can use to solve this case.”

“Okay, well then it was prolly one o’ the ropes right?” Bob asked. “Maybe the whole point was to hang me.”

“How would that help?” Gwenn asked.

“If ya wanna hang sum’one, ya gotta giv’em sum’ kinda height, yeah? So ya can make them fall down, and the noose hangs around their neck, snappin’ it instantly.”

“I don’t see why they wouldn’t just use the stool then.”

“They couldn’t use the stool,” Ryoji objected. “Because Bob was unconscious! How would they-”

Ryoji didn’t finish his sentence. The answer had come to him while he spoke, and the whole picture was painting itself in his mind. He had to admit he was impressed – the culprit might have been messy, but that didn’t make them stupid. If it hadn’t been for the sake of a murder plot, their ingenuity might have been admirable.

“How would they what?” Gwenn asked. “Won’t you finish your sentence?”

“I was going to ask: ‘how would they make him stand upright?’ - but the answer is obvious. By using duct tape.”

“Huh?” Typhaine said. “That was the only reason?”

“How weird,” Bob commented. “I guess I can kinda picture it though. Me standin’ on that stool, taped to that wall and with the noose around my neck.”

“But would that really work?” Typhaine asked with a pout. “If the culprit wanted to hang Bob, then sticking him to the wall is a weird choice. If they suddenly removed the stool, the tape would hold him in place, wouldn’t it?”

“Not necessarily,” Jordana replied. “Tape can be rather solid, but it doesn’t stick all that well. Even if you use a lot, that’s probably not enough to support the weight of a fully grown man.”

“But Bob being unconscious last night could easily be a lie,” Magalie reminded them. “I think it’s rather dangerous to base our whole argument on that.”

“On the contrary, the fact that Bob was taped to the wall in the first place proves that he was unconscious!” Ryoji said enthusiastically.

“It doesn’t prove shit. That’s just a logical fallacy.”

“A what now?” Bob asked curiously.

“I don’t have the patience to explain that to you right now. Anyway, there’s a bigger problem: why would the culprit go through the trouble of hanging Bob in such a weird way, when they could simply strangle him? It would have been cleaner, quicker, and much less complicated.”

“And it wouldn’t leave as much evidence behind,” Gwenn noted. “The only way for this to make sense is for the culprit to be a real idiot, which is unlikely I think.”

“I dun’t wanna discard Ryo’s theory so easy,” Bob said grumpily. “We gotta think ‘bout it just a lil’ more!”

“Or maybe we should think about this a different way?” Typhaine suggested.

Ryoji placed both hands against his temples. For a brief instant, it had felt like he was about to blow the case wide open. He was certain that he was onto something, though his classmates’ reactions had deterred his confidence.

_There must be a way for this to make sense. What would be the benefit of_ _hanging Bob in this specific manner?_

Ryoji scrolled through his pictures hastily, desperate for a clue that would point him in the right direction. Then he remembered the second rope, the one which had been tied around the door handle.

“Guys!” He said in excitement. “I think I got it!”

“You’ve managed to make sense of this mess?” Gwenn asked in bewilderment.

“I might. I’ll explain my reasoning and you guys can tell me if you have any counter-arguments. Works for you all?”

“Sure,” Bob said proudly. “Hit us with it.”

“Try to imagine you’re in that room,” Ryoji began, trying to catch everyone’s attention. “Bob is unconscious, but the culprit has managed to force him to stand upright on the stool by sticking him to the wall with duct tape. The rope has been attached to the hook on the ceiling above, and the noose is around his neck. What happens if you decided to remove the stool?”

“Uh… I fall down?” Bob asked. “And the rope strangles me, and I die.”

“Once again, there are so many more efficient ways of killing someone,” Magalie said, rolling her eyes. “How many times must I repeat myself?”

“It’s the last one, I promised,” Ryoji assured. “In fact, I didn’t forget. You just have to take the other rope in consideration.”

“Sure,” Bob said. “What wazzit for?”

“The second rope was tied around the door’s handle,” Ryoji reminded him. “It was also tied to something else, though we couldn’t figure out what it was. Now, try to imagine what would happen-”

“If it was tied around one of the stool’s feet,” Jordana suddenly understood. _“Malditos bastardos,”_ she added in anger, baring her teeth.

“Hold on, whut?” Bob asked. “What duzzat mean?”

“If the rope was used to connect the stool and the door, try to imagine what happened if someone entered the room,” Ryoji explained.

Bob rubbed his shoulder uneasily.

“Pullin’ the door would tug on the rope, and pull the stool with it,” he realized. “And I would hang.”

“Precisely. If anyone entered the room, they would accidentally trigger the trap and kill you.”

“Holy shit.”

“That’s unholy!” Typhaine shouted, clearly disturbed.

“It depresses me how little I’m surprised by this new development,” Jordana admitted. “After all we’ve been through, I’m just… y’know. Bored.”

“Murderous plots aren’t enough to keep you entertained?” Magalie asked curiously.

“They’re getting old.”

“Hell no, tha’s nasty,” Bob complained, tapping his podium nervously. “Why me?”

“There’s no way of saying,” Ryoji replied calmly. “Not unless the culprit confesses.”

“But...”

Something seemed to be troubling Bob even still.

“What is it?” Typhaine asked gently.

“I dun’t get it,” he admitted. “Even one against two people, I dun’t get why I didn’t fight. Why dun’t I remember any o’ that? When y’all found me this mornin’, I wasn’t taped to the wall, was I?”

“No, you were on the floor and unconscious,” Gwenn replied.

“Or pretending to be unconscious anyway,” Magalie commented absently.

Bob flinched.

“I ain’t lyin’!” He protested.

“Maybe,” she replied, inspecting her nails. “That little story just feels a little too convenient. You were unconscious _all_ night? Please.”

“But I was!”

“What do you think happened?” Gwenn asked, trying to draw their attention.

“I dunno. I s’pose the culprit bashed me on the head with sumethin’, dunno what tho.”

“But you don’t have any head wound,” Jordana objected. “Or I have yet to see it.”

“Oh!” Magalie said. “Allow me to inspect his head?”

“Hell no!” Bob shouted.

He turned toward Gwenn, his other neighbor.

“Ya do it.”

“Sure,” Gwenn replied with a sigh.

The inspection was short.

“No wounds,” they stated bluntly.

“Whut? Aw c’mon, ya musta missed it!”

“It must be very tiny then,” Typhaine commented.

“Or maybe there’s no wound at all,” Magalie said snidely. “Hey Bob, are you lying to us again?”

“I ain’t no liar!”

“Said every liar ever.”

“Shut up, or I’ll fuckin’ cut ya open.”

“Kinky,” she replied with a snort. “At least invite me to dinner first.”

“Whut? Ew no, yer a girl!”

“You don’t invite girls to dinner?” Typhaine asked, sounding puzzled. “What if I wanted to have dinner with you?”

“Uh...”

“Guys, _please,”_ Jordana said, pinching the bridge of her nose. “May we focus on the trial?”

“That’d be nice,” Ryoji admitted. “Ah, by the way, I think I know how the culprits managed to render Bob unconscious without striking him.”

“Really?” Typhaine asked. “How did they do it?”

“I think you can figure that one out yourself, Typh’,” Ryoji said with a smile.

“Huh? Me? Why do you think that? I’m not very good at all that deduction business.”

“You’re probably cleverer than you give yourself credit for. Besides, you’ve been a great help during investigations! I think you just need to trust yourself a little.”

Typhaine blushed a little and removed her cap. She bit into it (to Ryoji’s puzzlement), her face scrunched in intense concentration.

“Is it the vodka bottle?” She eventually asked.

“Yes, that’s what I think,” Ryoji agreed.

“Wait, what vodka bottle are we talking about here?” Gwenn asked.

“The investigation revealed that a vodka bottle went missing from the kitchen,” Magalie explained. “And it was later found broken in Bob’s room.”

“Say what?” Bob asked, horrified. “They fuckin’ smashed me on the head with a vodka bottle? That coulda killed me!”

“What?” Ryoji repeated in confusion. “No Bobby, they made you _drink_ it.”

“Bobby?” Bob repeated with a blush. “Huh, I… I see.”

“Damn,” Gwenn said, hands on their hips. “A full bottle of vodka? That’s quite brutal.”

“I should have realized sooner,” Ryoji admitted apologetically. “I sensed the smell of alcohol when I carried Bob over to the helicopter, but I didn’t comment on it because I didn’t know what it meant.”

“That’s okay,” Jordana replied. “As long as we figure out the trick eventually, it doesn’t matter how long it takes us.”

“I was bein’ carried?” Bob asked thoughtfully. “Damn. Wish I had been conscious so I could enjoy it.”

“Still, that kinda raises a few more questions, doesn’t it?” Gwenn began uncertainly. “Because… well, how did the culprit force Bob to drink a full bottle of the stuff?”

“There were two culprits,” Jordana reasoned. “One could have held him in place while the other forced him to drink the contents of the bottle.”

“I found one of our funnels in the trash can,” Typhaine added. “So y’know, maybe they used that to force him to drink everything!”

“He was lucky he didn’t choke,” Magalie said ominously.

“Yikes,” Bob confirmed. “The more we talk about last night, the weirder it feels. Y’all sure that stuff really happened?”

“I don’t see any reason to doubt it,” Ryoji pondered, placing his thumb against his forehead.

“Jeez.”

He seemed to have trouble accepting the facts, and Ryoji couldn’t blame him. It was one thing to know someone had attempted to murder you in your sleep, and another entirely to realize you had unwillingly been a part of such a messed up and complex murder plot.

“I feel violated,” Bob said in disgust.

“At least now we know why you lost all your memories from last night,” Jordana reflected.

“Yeah, cuz I went through fuckin’ ethylic coma!”

“This is so messed up,” Gwenn said, passing a hand through their hair.

“If that’s true,” Magalie chirped. “We can’t be sure yet.”

“Really now,” Bob said, narrowing his eyes. “And what’s the fuckin’ problem this time?”

“The fuckin’ problem is that Ryoji’s theory hardly makes sense.”

“Whadja mean? It makes perfect sense!”

“It’s simply un-scientific to have such a lazy approach to mystery solving,” Magalie replied patiently. “Each theory must be tried and criticized before we can safely mark it as correct. Consider this: though the evidence we found may fit Ryoji’s narrative, who’s to say it doesn’t also fit with another narrative? The ropes could have been used in a different way, and the stool might have been brought to the crime scene several hours later by someone who had no connection to the case, for all we know.”

“What are you trying to say?” Ryoji asked. “Do you have an actual rebuttal, or are you just being cautious with my ideas?”

“She probably doesn’t have a real _contre-argument,”_ Jordana said dismissively. “She’s just doing what she’s been doing since the beginning of the trial: trying to lead us in the wrong direction.”

“Let it go girl,” Gwenn told Magalie with a sigh. “Ryoji’s theory is perfect. It explains all the evidence.”

“Does it now?” Magalie asked. “You’re quite confident today it seems.”

“Uh yeah…? So what?”

“Well explain this for me then. Why was there honey on the rope that was meant to hang Bob?”

“Uh...”

“And that’s not the biggest problem. If the door was meant to be opened, why did the culprit bother sealing the entrance with a plank as they left? It defeats the purpose, no?”

“Well...”

Gwenn looked embarrassed. They glanced around, seeking help from someone to get them out of this situation. Ryoji felt nervous too. Magalie raised several valid points, none of which he knew how to explain in a way that made sense.

 _It’s okay,_ Ryoji reflected. _I can probably solve this mystery too. As long as I keep calm and think rationally, I should be fine._

Magalie was starting at him with curiosity, but he avoided her gaze.

_I’ll show you, Magalie. Those tricks might have worked on me a month ago, but I’ve changed. I won’t let you manipulate me so easily._


	63. Class Trial 5 - Drought Edition

“I have two problems with Ryoji’s theory,” Magalie repeated, pounding her palm with her fist in rhythm. “One: why was there honey on the noose, and two: if the culprit wanted someone else to commit murder for their own sake, then why did they bother blocking the door?”

“The honey prolly dun’t matter that much,” Bob reflected. “Maybe sum’one broke the jar and it spilled onto the rope they used. No big deal.”

“Moron,” Magalie sighed. “It’s never that simple.”

“Well… fuckin’ produce evidence then!”

“Excuse me?”

“Tha’s the thing ya love to say, right? When sum’one says sum’thin’ ya dun’t like? I’m jus’ returnin’ the favor. If ya wanna prove me wrong, it’s gonna take more than sum’ pretty words!”

Magalie stared at him blankly.

“Fine. I found the honey jar in the kitchen. It was intact. Your move.”

Bob looked very stupid for a second.

“Uh… maybe yer lyin’?”

“She isn’t,” Typhaine whispered. “Me and Ryo also found the honey jar in the kitchen, and it wasn’t broken.”

Bob flailed his arms in defeat.

“Fine, I give up. I dun’t understand shit.”

“That was quick,” Gwenn remarked.

“I’m outta my league here. Trials ain’t exactly my forte.”

“We noticed,” Magalie said wearily. “Your forte is probably something like… being smelly and robbing people, right? Well, we don’t need any of that right now, so maybe you could shut up, so the adults may talk in peace?”

Bob looked scandalized, but didn’t seem to have the strength to talk back to her.

“That was ugly,” Ryoji said in quiet anger.

“So what? Your face is ugly too, but you probably don’t like it when I say it out loud.”

“Hey!”

Jordana snapped her fingers.

“Ryo? Over here. Look at me please.”

Ryoji rubbed his eyes. No matter how much he had grown during the past weeks, he still couldn’t stand direct insults. It hurt him too easily.

“Y-yeah?”

“Focus. Don’t pay attention to her. She’s just a pathetic sack of _mierda_ who deserves nothing but to be tossed in the garbage.”

Magalie laughed. Despite herself, Jordana asked:

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh, I was just telling myself… you’re still sore from that one time when I ignored your singing, right? That’s why you’re being so bitter.”

Jordana stared at her blankly for a total of ten seconds, frozen in place. Next she turned her attention back to the rest of the group, as if nothing had happened.

“Anyway. I think I can explain the plank on the door. In a way that’s consistent with Ryoji’s hypothesis too.”

Gwenn looked doubtful.

“Is that even possible? It seems pretty contradictory to me.”

“Well… we’ll see about that I guess. Brace yourselves though, because the implications are a bit dirty.”

Typhaine shivered.

“What do you mean?” She asked in a tiny voice.

“It has to do with how we’ve perceived the crime so far. What do we know? Or rather, what do we think we know?”

The others thought she was going to add something, but she didn’t.

“I dun’t understand yer question,” Bob admitted.

“I’m referring to the motive,” Jordana clarified. “So far, we’ve been led to believe that the virus was the motive, right?”

“Well yeah,” Gwenn said. “It’s not like the culprit hated Bob specifically, right? I mean first, it’s kinda hard to hate that guy, but also if they did, there was no reason to plan such a stupidly convoluted murder in the first place. They would have just stabbed him, end of the discussion.”

“There’s also the fact that they didn’t want to get involved,” Ryoji added. “By having someone else carry the murder, they sought to protect themselves both from the virus _and_ the class trial execution system. That’s how I see things anyway.”

“They didn’t care who the culprit would be,” Gwenn continued. “It could have been anyone, so long as it wasn’t them.”

“It’s been a recurring theme in this killing game,” Typhaine recalled. “Whenever we had to sacrifice someone, we’ve always tried to pick at random, because choosing a victim is too cruel.”

“Seems like you’re all convinced then, aren’t you?” Magalie asked with a smirk. “But Jordana clearly isn’t, or she wouldn’t have brought up this topic. Come on Jordana, out with it. What brings this disagreement?”

“The plank, of course. What was it for, really? When you think about it thoroughly, it doesn’t make much sense.”

“I get you,” Magalie intervened. “It goes against the plan’s very purpose. It prevents people from opening the door, which is the intended trigger for the murder.”

“But not for long,” Jordana cut in. “It’s not very easy to remove a plank from a door, is it? All you need is a certain tool.”

Ryoji suddenly felt very cold, despite the hot sun weighing on his neck. He slumped forward slightly, as if he were about to throw up.

“A tool… like a crowbar maybe?”

Jordana nodded.

“I see we have come to the same conclusion.”

“H-hold on,” Gwenn said, wide-eyed and raising their hands in front of their chest. “What are you two trying to say?”

“What I’m trying to say is that you were the culprit’s intended target,” Jordana said flatly. “I don’t really know why they would want to kill you specifically though.”

“We all know you carry that crowbar with you at all times, since Florian gifted it to you,” Ryoji added, wincing. “And you were the first one to wake up every morning, so you could feed those that were locked in quarantine.”

“If it hadn’t been for Rebecca unexpectedly breaking in through the window, you would have ended up becoming Bob’s killer,” Jordana concluded.

“Holy hell,” Gwenn whispered. “If that’s true, I really dodged a bullet on this one.”

“But I don’t get it,” Typhaine said meekly. “Who would want to kill Gwenn?”

“I don’t know,” Jordana replied, closing her eyes. “There must be a hidden motive somewhere, but I personally have no clue.”

Magalie yawned.

“This is boring,” she commented lazily. “Can’t we get to the vote already? I’m getting tired of this debate.”

“Yeah, well we’re getting tired of _you,”_ Gwenn snapped. “Now keep your mouth shut. We must figure out who had it after me.”

“No, we don’t. Because this theory still makes no sense.”

“What now?” Bob asked in exasperation.

Magalie placed both hands on her podium, lightly tapping them in rhythm. She focused her attention on Ryoji.

“Let me make sure I understand this well. You’re claiming the culprit forced Bob into unconsciousness by having him drink a full bottle of vodka, then placed him on a stool and taped his body to the wall. Then what, they made the preparations for the hanging, connected the stool to the door’s handle with another rope, and left the room?”

“That sums it up quite well,” Ryoji admitted. “Do you have a problem with that?”

“Of course I do. How did they leave the room without activating their own trap, genius? It’s not like they could tie the rope around the handle from the outside: we obviously saw that it was too short for that. So how did they do it? Unless they can somehow walk through walls, there’s a clear contradiction here.”

Ryoji blinked.

“I hadn’t thought of that.”

He suddenly felt very stupid. Moreover, he had the stressful sensation that he was missing something important. That he was being played for a fool, and that if he didn’t figure out the trick very soon, he was going to lose.

_Focus. There must be a way to solve this mystery._

“Maybe the culprits left through the window?” Typhaine suggested.

“Impossible,” Magalie objected. “Aside from Rebecca, none of us here are strong enough to do this.”

“But if they had a third rope…?” Bob suggested. “If they tied a knot around the window’s handle, they could climb down this way, and up in the parking lot. Ain’t ya the one that suggested that earlier Mag?”

“I did, and I’ve been told that it was impossible. The culprit would have had no way or removing the rope after they had left, and we should have found it this morning when we made our investigation.”

“Maybe Becca’s the one who removed it,” Bob said stubbornly.

“Why would she do something like that? She had absolutely no reason to.”

“Okay, then what if the culprit had another way of getting in and out of the room?” Gwenn asked. “Like a secret passage!”

“How would they do it?” Magalie asked. “You can’t just say that, you need to actually explain how it would be possible.”

“Crap,” Bob said. “I got no clue how to solve this one.”

“Maybe it really is impossible,” Typhaine said uncertainly.

Ryoji clenched his teeth, and covered his ears. He was sweating a little, desperately trying to come up with a solution, but the constant babble prevented him from concentrating.

_A way to bypass a locked room. Is there really such a thing?_

The state of Bob’s room flashed in his memory, and suddenly he remembered the glass shards on the floor near the entrance, and Typhaine’s comment on the decorative window.

“Oh, I get it!” He suddenly shouted. “They broke the decorative window!”

“The what?” Gwenn asked.

“The apartment suite’s front door has a little decorative window made of tinted glass. Typhaine and I found out that it had been smashed this morning, and covered later by a wooden panel, though we couldn’t figure out why. But it all makes sense now! That’s what the culprits used to get inside the room without opening the door!”

“I see!” Typhaine said excitedly. “But wait… isn’t the window a little too small for that? I don’t know if any of us could fit through.”

“You probably could,” Magalie reflected. “Maybe you’re the culprit?”

Typhaine flinched.

“Of course not!” She shouted in protestation. “What are you even saying?”

“Please don’t fight,” Ryoji said with a smile. “It’s not necessary. After all, the culprit didn’t need to go back into the room themselves: as long as they could fit their arms through the gap, they were good to go. You only need your hands to tie a knot after all! And after they were done, all they had to do was close the gap with planks, and leave.”

“That’s remarkably clever,” Jordana noted. “I suppose they broke the window with the same weapon they used to break the lock.”

“A few mallets went missing from the sports store,” Gwenn informed her. “So it was probably that.”

“Awesome!” Bob shouted, pumping his fists. “We solved this mystery!”

“Did we though?” Magalie asked. “We still don’t know why Rebecca died.”

“Whadja mean?” Bob asked in puzzlement. “I thought we cleared that up a while ago. She fell from the window, yeah?”

“But _why_ did she fall?” Jordana pondered. “As we’ve established, there was no one else in the room, and we’ve managed to prove that you were unconscious. Who could have possibly killed her?”

“Maybe she managed to wake Bob, but then he turned on her?” Typhaine suggested.

“He was in a coma. You can’t just wake people from that.”

“Uh… tha’s really weird now that ya mention it,” Bob admitted. “Ya dun’t think she committed suicide? I mean, it sounds crazy but… I dun’t really understand what else coulda happened.”

“Suicide doesn’t sound very likely,” Gwenn reflected. “If she wanted to kill herself, she wouldn’t have done it there. But maybe it was just an accident? The building isn’t exactly stable, and the floorboards are leaning down a bit. Maybe she just… slipped on something and fell through the window?”

“Is that really the best you’ve got?” Jordana asked, rolling her eyes. “This is Rebecca we’re talking about here. She managed to keep herself and Bob alive while diving inside a complex underground network of flooded mines. She wouldn’t have died in such a stupid way.”

“Well, how do you explain it then?” Gwenn asked in frustration. “She shouldn’t have died, yet she did: there has to be an explanation!”

“Maybe we overlooked something,” Typhaine pondered. “If we look back at the evidence, we might find a clue?”

“We still don’t know why there was honey on the rope,” Ryoji stated. “That’s one of the only mysteries that remains.”

“Tha’s the weirdest one out there,” Bob noted. “By all accounts, it makes no sense.”

“There must be a reason for it,” Jordana asserted. “It’s too peculiar to be random. Come on, let’s figure this out – I’m sure it’s not that complicated.”

“But it’s so… absurd,” Gwenn complained. “Why honey of all things? Food and murder really don’t go well together.”

“They would if I had to execute Typhaine,” Monoblade chimed in.

“What?”

“The rules state that I must have a punishment ready for each of you, just in case you happened to commit murder,” the robot explained patiently. “So at some point I was in my office, trying to figure out how to execute a student talented at making soup. You know you have the weirdest job in the world when you’re making sketches that show a young woman being tossed into a giant blender.”

Typhaine paled.

“Oh God,” she said in a hollow voice. “I’m going to be sick.”

“Why on earth would you tell us that?” Gwenn asked, dumbfounded.

“I dunno”, the robot shrugged. “It just illustrates a rare case where food and murder _do_ blend in quite well together. Haha, blend in… accidental pun there.”

“Shut up,” Magalie snapped.

“Anyway, let’s get back on track,” Ryoji suggested. “If we want to answer this weird question, maybe we should list honey’s different properties?”

“It sticks,” Bob stated bluntly. “Also it tastes good.”

“A spoonful of honey can do wonders when you have a throat-ache,” Typhaine supplied.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure that’s totally what the culprit had in mind,” Magalie said sarcastically.

“By the way Ryoji, didn’t you say the honey smelled a little weird?” Typhaine asked, completely ignoring the interruption. “Something about… nettles.”

“Now that you mention it! It did smell a little weird, like it was mixed with leaves of some kind. But I just assumed it was a special kind of honey.”

“Monoblade, any thoughts?” Jordana asked. “I assume you’re the one who bought it. What kind of honey did you pick?”

“The bees are dying, kiddos,” Monoblade replied. “Honey is super expensive these days, so I bought the cheapest kind. There’s probably more sugar than actual honey in the pot.”

“So… it’s not supposed to smell like leaves?” Typhaine summarized.

“Probably not, no.”

“But then, where does the smell come from?” Gwenn asked in confusion.

“Something must have been mixed in with the honey,” Jordana surmised. “It’s not that weird when you think about it.”

“Makes sense,” Ryoji said. “We shouldn’t forget that there were plenty of spots on Rebecca’s hands. I originally thought she was just allergic to honey, but it might be something else.”

“It might’ve been actual nettle leaves,” Bob suggested. “Or any other toxic plant basically.”

“Toxic…?” Jordana repeated, sounding a little distant. “I wonder...”

“Ya have a weird look on yer face,” Bob noticed. “Did I say sum’thin’ stupid again?”

“Oh no, definitely not. I think that might be it, actually.”

“That might be what?” Magalie asked with a frown.

“The true cause of death. What if the honey was poisoned?”

Everyone began to talk all at once. Agreements and disagreements flooded the debate, making it impossible to follow. Meanwhile, Ryoji reflected on Jordana’s idea.

_I guess it would explain a few things if the honey had been poisoned. But does that really work? Only one way to find out._

“Guys, guys,” he said as he raised his arms, trying to calm them down. “I know it sounds crazy, but consider this: when Florian and I explored the facility’s 3rd floor for the first time, we found evidence that a bottle of poison had been stolen. I know it doesn’t prove much, but it gives a basis for Jordana’s theory, right?”

“Sure, but isn’t that weird?” Typhaine asked, pressing her cheeks together. “If the culprit had poison at their disposal, I don’t understand why they needed to mix it with honey when they could just pour it on the rope directly.”

“Cuz they needed it to stick to the rope,” Bob supplied. “If it was a powdery poison for example, it would have fallen everywhere, and the trick woulda been ruined.”

“But that’s ridiculous,” Gwenn protested. “Even if the honey was poisoned, Rebecca only got some on her hands. That wouldn’t have killed her, would it? And don’t say she licked her fingers or something! She’s not that stupid!”

“She didn’t need to lick her fingers,” Ryoji countered. “Remember that she had previously cut herself, and that she was still bleeding by the time she found Bob unconscious in the room. If she touched the rope with her injured hand, as the evidence suggests, then the poison might have entered her body directly through the cut in her palm!”

“By mixing with her blood,” Jordana understood. “It’s also worth noting that we don’t know what kind of poison it could have been. Some poisons can kill you from a mere touch. She might have doomed herself the second she touched the rope with her hand.”

“Whatever the case, it must have hurt her quite a lot,” Typhaine said, shuddering. “From the look of her hands, it’s clear that she suffered.”

“And despite that, she took the time to remove the rope from its hook and lay it on the floor,” Jordana realized. “Not only that, but she also ripped the tape that held Bob against the wall, and laid _him_ on the floor too.”

“All that to save me,” Bob said guiltily. “Holy fuck… we didn’t fuckin’ deserve that chick.”

“But I don’t understand,” Gwenn said, shaking their head. “If poison is what killed her, then why did we find her body in the parking lot? You’re not about to say she jumped willingly, are you?”

“She wouldn’t,” Typhaine said passionately. “She wasn’t that kind of person!”

“But then what happened? It’s an undeniable truth that that’s where we found her! No one else entered Bob’s room that night, so it’s not like someone could have thrown her corpse after she died on the spot, right?”

“Maybe if the pain was too intense...” Ryoji suggesting, feeling sick. “If she knew she was doomed anyway…?”

“No,” Typhaine countered firmly. “She wouldn’t give up, no matter what!”

“She didn’t have to,” Jordana said softly. “It’s possible she merely fainted.”

“No,” Bob whispered. “F’real?”

“This is only speculation of course – after all, we don’t know the effect of that poison. But if it was particularly strong, it could have knocked her out while she was staring through the window.”

“And why would she stare through the window?” Magalie asked dubiously.

“Her hands were badly inflamed. It’s possible she merely sought to cool down a bit.”

“Fuck,” Gwenn said, their voice shaking. “Fucking hell.”

Bob sniffled.

“Poor Becca. She didn’t deserve that. It’s so… so _wrong,”_ he added sadly.

“The irony of the situation is quite bitter,” Magalie commented wearily.

For once, she didn’t seem to have anything mean to add.

“I don’t want to think about it,” Typhaine said, clearly shaken. “To think… after she went through so much trouble, she would be...”

“Betrayed by one of us?” Gwenn completed. “That’s seriously twisted.”

“But it’s so… weird,” Jordana said, frowning.

“Hm? What do you mean?”

“Well, everything made sense up til now, but now that we know there was poison on the rope, I don’t know what to think anymore.”

“What do you mean?” Magalie asked.

“It’s about the motive once again. I thought the culprit didn’t want to get involved in the murder directly, so they could avoid execution. So why would they willingly spread some poison on the rope? If things had gone according to plan, then Gwenn would have hung Bob, and then probably killed themselves in an attempt to save him. That would definitely involve our culprit, right? On top of that, what benefit would they gain from killing two people at once? It makes no sense.”

“I thought there were two culprits tho,” Bob said in confusion. “So, dun’t it make sense? They each get their murder so they can both escape. Everyone’s happy.”

Jordana shook her head.

“In that case both of them would have killed their victims directly. The only way for this to make sense would be if Gwenn was among them, but even so… it just doesn’t fit.”

Ryoji stroked his beard thoughtfully.

“Maybe the whole thing was an accident?”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s possible the poison dose wasn’t meant to be lethal,” he pondered. “Maybe it only killed Rebecca because she had an open wound?”

“But if it wasn’t supposed to be lethal, what would be the point?” Gwenn asked in bewilderment.

“To prevent ya from savin’ my ass,” Bob suggested. “Maybe the culprit was afraid ya were gonna try to untie the rope from my neck before I could choke to death. Tha’s why they put poison on the rope: if the pain was too strong, ya couldn’t touch it for too long.”

“Hm,” Jordana said. “Hanging doesn’t choke people to death though. It breaks their neck.”

“Well, maybe the culprit didn’t know that,” Bob said with a shrug.

“That doesn’t sound plausible,” Magalie argued.

“Good thing I dun’t care ‘bout yer opinion then.”

“It would be too risky,” she insisted. “I mean come on, poisoning the rope itself? How would the culprit even know they had the right dose?”

“Choosing to kill someone is already quite the gamble,” Jordana reminded her. “If you’re going to take risks, might as well go all out.”

Ryoji took a moment to chase a praying mantis which had been attempting to climb onto his leg. The heat was getting a little painful and he was getting thirsty – but he didn’t dare ask for another break.

“Ryoji, are you all right?” Typhaine asked timidly.

He nodded.

“My wounds hurt a little, but I should be fine.”

“If you need anything, don’t be afraid to ask, okay?” She whispered.

He smiled at her.

“Thanks Typh’. I’ll keep it in mind.”

“So what next?” Bob asked with a yawn. “We solved all them mysteries, or there’s still more?”

“We solved most of them, but we’re still missing the most important one,” Jordana said wearily. “We don’t know who the culprit is.”

“Eh? After all this time, we still dunno?”

“Too bad Aphrodite isn’t there,” Magalie said with an exaggerate sigh. “She was actually competent at solving mysteries. To think Ferdinand killed her… what a curse he laid upon us.”

“Do you have no shame at all?” Jordana asked flatly.

“Nope.”

“Aha!” Gwenn suddenly shouted.

All eyes fell on them.

“What is it?” Ryoji asked.

“Oh, uh… I was looking through the pictures Typhaine took during her investigation, and I think I found a clue that might lead us to the culprit.”

“Awesome!” Bob shouted. “Who izzit?”

Gwenn jerked their thumb to the right, pointing at Magalie.

“Her obviously. I mean, did we seriously expect anyone else?”


	64. Class Trial 5 - Breeze Edition

Ryoji twisted his hands nervously. The moment of the accusation was always the toughest for him, because it was when things got personal. He was fine with discussing the logistics of a murder plot, granted that it only concerned logic and facts – as long as he didn’t think about it too much, he could ignore the personal motivations that lingered underneath. But when his friends started pointing fingers at each other, things took a sour turn. Even if the accusation turned out to be wrong, it still forced him to consider it. Could he accept that the person in question was a murderer? The problem was that he could never believe it.

 _“_ _Merveilleux,”_ Magalie said with an eye roll. “I guess I should have seen that one coming. So let’s hear it then, shall we? Why do you think I’m the culprit, you fopdoodle?”

“Well, it’s quite simple- wait, what did you just call me?” Gwenn asked, momentarily crashing their train of thoughts.

“Does it matter?” Jordana asked, sounding annoyed. “It’s probably the medieval word for ‘horse dung’ or something, who cares?”

“It means ‘dumbass’ actually,” Magalie corrected.

“Rude,” Gwenn said grumpily. “But it doesn’t matter! I can actually prove that you’re the culprit. Look what Typhaine found at the scene!”

They proudly stuck their monopad up her face. She squinted at the screen. Bob, who was in the middle, looked somewhat uncomfortable.

“All I see is a surgical mask,” Magalie said neutrally.

“A bloody surgical mask,” Gwenn corrected.

“So? What does it change? It’s not mine.”

“Are you sure about that?” Gwenn asked, obviously satisfied with themselves.

“We all wore surgical masks. It could belong to anyone.”

“True, we all did. But you’re the only one who coughed blood!” Gwenn shouted triumphantly.

“Ooooh,” Typhaine said. “So that’s what it meant.”

“Meh, I’m not impressed,” Magalie commented as she inspected her nails. “The blood could have gotten on the mask some other way.”

“Uh… how?” Bob asked. “I didn’t bleed, and Rebecca barely did. And why would the blood end up on a mask anyway? It makes no sense.”

“Just admit it’s yours already,” Jordana groaned. “You’re wasting our time.”

“Fine,” Magalie agreed. “It’s mine.”

Gwenn raised a finger, clearly about to say something, then frowned, looking confused.

“Uh… okay. So you admit it?”

“Of course I do. I don’t have any reason to hide it. That’s not enough to prove I’m the culprit.”

“But… but it’s _your_ mask! It was found at the crime scene!”

“So? Who says I’m the one who placed it there?”

“Me! I’m accusing you!”

“Well I reject your accusation.”

“On what grounds?”

“On the grounds that it’s absolutely ridiculous, you _cumberworld._ Do I look that stupid to you? Would I leave such an obvious piece of evidence at the crime scene? That’s like begging for you all to suspect me!”

“But the mask was in the same place as the funnel, which the culprit used to force Bob to drink the vodka,” Typhaine argued timidly. “That means the culprit tried to hide it, right?”

“Wrong. If they wanted to hide evidence, all they had to do was dig a hole in the garden and dump it there. Or flush it down the toilet. Or burn it. So many possibilities! Only an idiot would use the trash can at the murder scene. I’ve obviously been framed.”

“I hate to admit it, but she’s right,” Jordana said, sounding annoyed. “Our culprit was smart, they wouldn’t have left such an obvious piece of evidence behind. Which means Magalie is probably not our culprit.”

“Seriously?”

Gwenn looked crestfallen.

“But then… who is it?”

They were looking at each of their friends in the eyes, seemingly asking ‘are you the one who betrayed me?’ Ryoji realized they had never suspected anyone other than Magalie and Bob since the beginning of the trial. They could probably not picture anyone else as the culprit, and Ryoji couldn’t blame them – he had a hard time believing it too.

“I think I know who it is,” Magalie asserted.

“Shut up!” Gwenn complained. “I don’t care about what you have to say!”

“Too bad, I’m going to say it anyway.”

“Fine,” Jordana agreed, rubbing her temples. “If we don’t have a choice, might as well get it over is. Who do you think it is?”

“I’ll explain my reasoning so that nobody is lost,” Magalie began, cleaning invisible glasses. “Let’s look at our suspect list, shall we? Theoretically, we should have eight suspects.”

“Eight?” Typhaine repeated. “You’re counting Rebecca in there?”

“I said ‘should’. But let’s admit it, the evidence at the crime scene doesn’t suggest a suicide, so we can probably discard her.”

“We already knew that,” Bob pouted. “Are ya jus’ here to waste our time?”

“Of course not. Anyway, Bob can’t be a suspect either, because he was in a coma when the crime took place. Gwenn and I were both targeted by the culprit in different ways, which disqualifies us as well. And of course, since Jordana couldn’t move, she can’t be the culprit either.”

“That leaves us with three suspects,” Ryoji counted. “Typhaine me, and the late Florian.”

“But it couldn’t have been Florian!” Gwenn protested.

“Of course not,” Magalie agreed. “He wasn’t sick, so he had no motive to kill.”

Typhaine and Ryoji exchanged a worried glance.

_This isn’t right._

“So which one is it?” Bob asked, biting his lip nervously.

“Well, in order to explain that, I need to reveal one important fact,” Magalie explained with a faint smile. “I only coughed blood once.”

“Only once…?” Ryoji repeated in anguish.

“Indeed. And at the time, there were only two witnesses: Ryoji and Gwenn. Which means Ryoji is the only one who could have thought to frame me by hiding a bloody surgical mask at the crime scene. Therefore, he’s the culprit. I rest my case.”

Ryoji felt like he had been slapped. He began to shake, expecting all of his classmates to suddenly turn on him – but to his surprise, they didn’t seem to have been convinced by Magalie’s argument.

“Your reasoning is pretty shaky,” Jordana stated in a bored tone. “I mean, sure, it’s a possibility, but it’s by no means solid evidence.”

“Ya seriously think Ryo would kill _me_ of all people?” Bob asked, eyebrows raised. “I mean, if he were capable of killin’ _anyone_ , that is. The other day, we were eatin’ chicken nuggets, and he began to cry cuz he felt sad for the chicken. This is the dude we’re talkin’ ‘bout here.”

“Ryoji has been working so hard to take care of us these last few days!” Gwenn added passionately. “You think after all that he would suddenly turn on us and start murdering people? Get real.”

“You’re all nothing but fools,” Magalie said, clearly annoyed. “Your sentimentalism will be your downfall. Haven’t you considered that Ryoji might have only been pretending to be a good person this whole time?”

“Are you even hearing yourself?” Jordana asked with a snort. “You’re the biggest fool here if you’re that devoid of emotional intelligence.”

“Fuck off,” Magalie snarled. “I don’t care about your opinion!”

Ryoji was so happy to be trusted and supported that he had begun to cry.

“You guys are too nice,” he said in a shaky voice. “What did I do to deserve you all?”

“To deserve _us?”_ Jordana repeated with a hollow chuckle. “It’s the other way around, buddy. We don’t really deserve you.”

“We don’t,” Typhaine agreed.

“Absolutely not,” Gwenn winced.

“Maybe a lil’,” Bob objected. “Right?”

Ryoji silently extended his arms in response. All his friends knew what it meant. They jumped from their podiums, and threw themselves in his arms for a group hug. It was a little difficult for Jordana because of her wheelchair, but they found a way to include her anyway. In the end, Magalie remained alone, despite Ryoji’s invitations to have her join the group hug anyway. Her anger was like a cold wind that froze the plants around her, acting like a shield that repelled people. Despite that, she had never looked more lost and confused, so utterly sad as everyone abandoned her.

“Well if that’s not wonderful,” she said through gritted teeth. “A group hug in a murder trial. Of course.”

But no one was listening to her, besides Monoblade.

“Let them have it,” he said with a sigh. “I’d rather watch that than the next execution.”

Once they were done, Ryoji and Bob lifted Jordana’s wheelchair in order to place her back in her spot, and everyone regained their places.

“So, do we all agree that Ryoji couldn’t possibly be the culprit?” Jordana asked as a way to reopen the discussion.

“I think I would have known if it were him,” Typhaine reflected. “I could barely see the culprits last night, but I would notice someone so tall and… well uh, large.”

“You can say fat, it’s okay,” Ryoji said with a smile. “Calling someone fat isn’t an insult.”

“True!”

“Seriously?” Magalie asked angrily. “Are we going to accept that Ryoji is innocent based on a testimony that could easily be a lie?”

“Ya bet we are,” Bob said defiantly.

“You’re the one who gave Typhaine an alibi!” Gwenn accused. “Based on _your_ reasoning, we should have every reason to trust her!”

“Don’t bother,” Typhaine recommended. “She’s not really trying to argue, she just wants to confuse us.”

“At any rate, we don’t have enough evidence to convict Ryoji of murder,” Jordana asserted prudently. “Or anyone at all.”

“Really?” Gwenn asked. “There must be a clue we’ve overlooked.”

“Uh...” Typhaine said as she scrolled the group chat. “I don’t know. The remaining clues are for Florian’s murder.”

“C’mon, we’ve never been stumped before,” Bob said rationally. “We always found a way to figure out whodunnit, why would it be different this time?”

“I don’t know,” Jordana said. “I just can’t figure it out. I remember how Aphrodite was able to solve a murder with just some scratch marks and little debris of wood, and it kills me that we still don’t know who the killer is, even though we had a mountain of evidence to work with.”

“We’ve been here a while,” Typhaine reasoned. “The culprit was able to learn from four different trials. They know how we think by now.”

“It’s hard to gather alibis when the murder takes place at night,” Gwenn reasoned. “And all the equipment that was necessary for the murder was available to all of us. Well, aside from Bob, Jordana and Rebecca, but that’s obvious.”

“So what?” Magalie asked, apparently confused. “Are you just giving up?”

“Of course we ain’t givin’ up!” Bob said energetically. “Right?”

“Well...”

Gwenn looked uncertain.

“I’m just saying, Florian’s murder is probably going to be easier to solve.”

They were worryingly staring at Ryoji, afraid that he would start yelling again – but the man remained silent.

“Why do you think that?” Typhaine asked.

“Because it took place right under our nose this morning! It’s probably going to be at least somewhat easier to figure out what happened.”

They looked down at their feet uneasily.

“Also… I really want to know what happened to Flo,” they said shamefully. “I know I need to hold out because Rebecca deserves as much respect, but… it’s getting harder and harder for me.”

Ryoji gulped uneasily.

“We might as well discuss it,” Jordana admitted. “We can always come back to this case later. At any rate, I have a feeling the two are connected, somehow.”

“Really?” Gwenn asked in disbelief. “You’d be okay with moving on like that?”

“Yes,” she said firmly. “But my opinion isn’t the only one that matters. What do you all think?”

“I’m okay with it,” Typhaine said with a shrug.

“Same here,” Ryoji admitted.

Bob winced.

“It dun’t feel good to give up here, but… sure, let’s figure this one out. If tha’s what y’all want, I wun’t get in yer way.”

“Perfect,” Jordana said with a loud clap. “It’s decided.”

“So my opinion doesn’t count?” Magalie asked, sounding annoyed.

“Let’s give it our all,” Jordana continued, ignoring the interruption. “I have a feeling this one is going to be tricky.”


	65. Class Trial 5 - Frost Edition

“So what should we start with?” Typhaine asked. “Should we try to determine the cause of death?”

“Maybe we should start with a sequence of events,” Ryoji suggested. “If we manage to pin down everyone’s movements, maybe we’ll get a clearer idea of what happened.”

“Works for me,” Bob said. “What should we start with?”

“Let’s try to assert where everybody was when the fire broke out,” Jordana offered. “It might not have been the true cause of death, but it’s hard to imagine it has nothing to do with the crime.”

“Fine by me,” said Bob. “I was above the restaurant, investigating the apartment suites. No matter how ya cut it, it woulda been hard for me to be the culprit for that one.”

“I was in the parking lot,” Gwenn testified. “I was finishing the last touches for the preparations of our distress signal, and waiting for Typhaine to bring me back the gas container and lighter. Jordana was with me: she can confirm that I’m not the culprit.”

“I had finished my investigation of the first floor,” Jordana explained. “When I came out of the building, Gwenn had begun to move the little stacks of branches that Ryoji had kindly cut for us, so I offered to help him. But I couldn’t do much in my wheelchair, so I quickly gave up on that plan. It’s not a solid alibi, but it’s all I got.”

“But right after the fire broke out, we saw Typhaine running out of the burning building,” Gwenn said suspiciously. “What exactly were you doing in there, Typh?”

“I was attacked,” Typhaine explained. “I was searching the building when someone hit me with something. I wasn’t stunned, but it hurt so much that I couldn’t move for a while. I... can show you guys my wound if you like.”

She removed her cap, and turned her head to the side. Indeed, there was a light bruise above her temple.

“As for me, I was busy attempting to murder Ryoji,” Magalie said casually. “I attacked him with a sword in the sports store and he defended himself with a javelin. I chased him out of the store and into the nearby street, then through the graveyard and into the restaurant. When we came out, the fire had already started. As you can see, none of us could possibly be the culprit.”

A moment of uneasy silence welcomed her words.

“We already know what happened,” Gwenn began, “but even so, it’s very disturbing to hear you laying down the facts like this. Like it’s no big deal that you tried to _murder Ryoji.”_

“Hey Ryo, how are yer wounds by the way?” Bob asked worriedly.

Ryoji adjusted his bandages thoughtfully.

“It hurts a bit, but I’ll live.”

“How are you so chill about this?” Gwenn asked in astonishment. “It’s like people attempt to murder you daily or something!”

“Well...” he began uncertainly. “Isn’t it?”

“Alexander tried to murder you, then Florian tried to have you executed,” Magalie stated. “Then Lucien -or was it Typhaine?- smashed you on the head with a big rock while you slept. There’s also that one time when Rebecca tried to stab you and frame Jordana for the crime, and let’s not forget about Gwenn’s bomb trap that followed only two days later. Oh, and there’s that one time when Bob smashed you on the head with a bowl, but he was under the influence of the Furantur at the time, so it barely counts. Hm. Did I forget anything?”

“No, I think that’s about it,” Ryoji said wearily.

“Six murder attempts in a month! Well, seven counting mine. I suggest you avoid all kinds of popularity contests from now on. Don’t want to get humiliated.”

“Shut up,” Bob said uneasily.

“It’s really painful to hear,” Jordana admitted. “I mean, this killing game hasn’t treated any of us nicely, but you’ve probably had it worse than any of us, Ryo.”

“Please, can we stop talking about this?” Ryoji begged. “I know it’s bad, but this isn’t helping me. We should get back to the trial.”

“We can try,” Gwenn said with a wince. “What’s our next question?”

“I’d like to know who saw Florian last,” Ryoji said, trying to avoid the dark thoughts that were choking him. “Where was he and what was he doing?”

“I didn’t see ‘im at all this mornin’,” Bob confessed. “He wasn’t around when my helico landed and I never bumped into him after that.”

“I didn’t see him either,” Jordana admitted.

“I think I was the last person who saw him then,” Gwenn realized. “It was a little after Magalie, Typhaine and Ryoji came back from the hospital. He told me he was going to look for my lighter and gas container inside the research facility, and I never saw him after that.”

Gwenn rubbed their eyes.

“He saw that I was distressed, and before he went, he… he kissed me on the cheek. He couldn’t really stand physical contact, so I was very surprised.”

Silent tears began to run down their cheeks.

“He told me that everything was going to be all right,” they finished in a whisper.

After that, it was impossible to get a word out of them. They hid their face and sat in the grass, sobbing quietly for ten minutes. Ryoji went to sit with them, placing one hand on their back and rubbing it softly. When they came back to their podium, their face was still wet, but they looked determined.

“I’m not going to say sorry for that,” they warned. “Let’s get back to work.”

“Fine,” Jordana said. “From now on, I suggest that we-”

“Typhaine,” Gwenn said dryly. “Explain yourself.”

She blinked.

“What do you mean? What should I explain?”

“It’s quite simple. We all have an alibi for when the fire broke out, except for you. You claim you were attacked by someone, but your wound could easily be self-inflicted. It’s only natural that I would suspect you at this point, isn’t it?”

“I… I guess,” she said, gulping nervously.

“For the record, where were you when you were attacked?” Ryoji asked curiously.

“In the robot room, near the plants exhibit.”

“And you didn’t see your assailant at all?” Jordana asked curiously. “I know the robot room is a bit of a mess, but it’s not exactly easy to hide in there.”

Typhaine looked embarrassed.

“I don’t… I didn’t see them, no. I was so focused on my search that I didn’t pay attention to anything else.”

“Still, it’s strange,” Bob noted. “Seems like yer attacker was kinda clumsy. The wound dun’t look that bad, and they kinda hit an awkward spot. Kinda makes me wonder what they were tryin’ to do.”

“A clumsy attacker? More like a self-inflicted wound,” Magalie sneered.

“That’s not true!” Typhaine protested. “I really got attacked!”

“You claim the culprit attacked you from behind, yes? But your wound’s location doesn’t suggest that at all. Seems a bit weird if you ask me.”

“That might be a lil’ weird, but I dun’t think she’s lyin’,” Bob stated carefully.

“Me neither,” Jordana agreed. “She’s not a very good liar anyway – we probably would have noticed if she were attempting to deceive us.”

“But her story makes no sense,” Gwenn countered. “And there’s no proof she was actually attacked in the robot room. It would be a different story if she had found the weapon, but she didn’t, did she?”

“Maybe it burned in the fire!” Typhaine suggested.

“We woulda found traces of it, I think,” Bob reflected. “The classrooms burned pretty bad, but the robot room was mostly fine.”

“In all honesty, I believe this discussion is pointless,” Jordana said. “Or more accurately, it’s currently irrelevant.”

“Irrelevant?” Gwenn repeated in frustration. “Are you making fun of me?”

“There’s no way the fire and the crime aren’t somehow related,” Magalie asserted firmly. “Knowing who started the fire has to lead us to the culprit.”

“What I mean is, it’s pointless to try and understand what happened when the fire broke out if we don’t know what the fire was for,” Jordana explained patiently.

“What?” Magalie repeated, pretending to be naïve. “Are you suggesting the fire isn’t what killed Florian?”

“Don’t make fun of me. You have to have seen the pictures of the blood pool in the street beyond the laundromat.”

Ryoji’s stomach lurched.

“So much blood,” he mumbled in disgust.

“When ya see all that blood, it’s not hard to believe Florian died in that street,” Bob reflected. “No one could possibly survive after havin’ lost so much blood.”

“Who says it’s Florian’s blood?” Magalie asked innocently. “It could be Rebecca’s.”

“Of course not,” Jordana snapped. “There was no sign that Rebecca’s body was moved after she fell through the window. And what purpose could the culprit have for doing that anyway?”

“I dunno, give themselves an alibi probably,” Magalie said nonchalantly. “Culprits always do that it seems.”

Typhaine shook her head.

“It wouldn’t work. When I found the blood in the street, it wasn’t fully dry yet, so it must have been quite recently shed.”

“And Rebecca died during the night,” Gwenn completed. “So it couldn’t be her. I see.”

“It’s crazy when ya think about it,” Bob said with a wince. “Florian was killed right under our nose, and none of us saw anythin’.”

“But isn’t that weird?” Jordana asked. “I thought Florian was last sighted in the research facility. How did he end up in that street? Someone should have seen him walking through the parking lot.”

“That’s true,” Gwenn admitted. “I was there after all, I should have known – and it’s not like the trees in the garden are tall enough to hide someone.”

“You probably just missed him,” Magalie said dismissively.

“I wouldn’t miss him!” Gwenn argued hotly. “I was on the lookout for him specifically. I needed him to bring me back my lighter and gasoline.”

“Besides, Florian wouldn’t have any reason to hide, right?” Typhaine asked prudently.

“Gwenn probably did just miss him,” Magalie insisted.

“Even if that were the case, Florian had to somehow go back to the classroom on the facility’s 2nd floor after being killed,” Jordana stated. “And it’s not so easy to walk around with a corpse without being noticed.”

“Well-” Magalie began.

“Shut up,” Gwenn complained. “I’m not blind, okay? Maybe I missed Florian once, but I would have definitely noticed someone carrying a corpse.”

“Or I would have,” Jordana offered. “I was back by that time, so I would have definitely noticed the culprit.”

“But then… what duzzit mean?” Bob asked in confusion. “Who does the blood belong to?”

“Two of us here had a sword fight earlier this morning,” Gwenn reminded him. “It’s not absurd to think that they shed some blood during that fight. Both of them still have bandages after all.”

Magalie and Ryoji exchanged a glance.

“No, that’s not possible,” they said at the exact same time.

“We did fight, but we never even went inside the laundromat,” Magalie explained.

“And though I lost some blood, it’s nothing like those giant pools in the street,” Ryoji completed. “By the way, I never injured Magalie even once during our fight,” he added.

“You’re too much of a coward for that,” she said flatly.

“More like a saint,” Jordana corrected.

“But then how did you get those wounds, Magalie?” Gwenn asked suspiciously. “Your explanation had better be satisfying, or we’ll-”

“It’s personal,” she said flatly.

“What? You’re not even going to try to explain it?”

“Figure it out for yourself, suckers.”

“But...”

Gwenn looked both startled and annoyed.

“How can someone care so little about appearing suspicious in a murder trial?” They asked the rest of the group.

“Doesn’t matter,” Jordana cut in. “Right now we need to figure out where the blood came from.”

“There was so much of it,” Typhaine said with disgust. “I don’t think anyone could have survived if they had lost that much blood.”

“No, definitely not,” Jordana agreed. “But are we sure it was even real blood?”

“I sniffed it,” Bob confessed. “And I touched it with my fingers. It’s definit’ly the real stuff.”

“The smell of iron was sickening,” Typhaine confessed.

“Maybe it was real blood,” Gwenn began, “but the culprit added tons of water to make it look like the puddle was actually larger?”

“Nah, it wouldn’t have fooled me,” Bob stated with confidence. “The color would be all off. ‘sides, there wasn’t jus’ _one_ puddle, but plenty o’ little ones too, formin’ some sorta pattern.”

“Like a wounded person trying to run away from their killer maybe?” Ryoji suggested.

“Tha’s what it looked like, yeah. Oh, and I shouldn’t forget, we also found Flo’s hat.”

Gwenn blinked.

“Eh? In the street?”

“Yeah. ‘twasn’t in a very good shape, but it was there regardless.”

 _I forgot about this detail, but it complicates things,_ Ryoji thought. _Could the culprit have stolen Florian’s hat? Or was he actually there at the scene?_

“Say Gwenn,” Ryoji began. “When you saw Florian last, did he...”

“Yes, he was wearing his hat,” Gwenn asserted, apparently as confused as them.

They were looking at the picture on their monopad.

“It… really is his hat,” they said uneasily. “It even has the little green ribbon I gave him.”

“There can be no doubt?” Jordana asked. “Just trying to make sure.”

“I’m 80% sure it’s his,” they said firmly. “But uh… maybe the culprit just stole it?”

“What for?” Bob asked. “To mislead us?”

“You guys have gotten waaaay too suspicious,” Magalie said with a yawn. “Sometimes a piece of evidence is just a piece of evidence. No need to make things so stupidly complicated.”

“I somehow doubt the culprit could have stolen Florian’s hat without any of us noticing,” Jordana reflected.

“Uh… how come?” Ryoji asked.

Jordana winced, trying to avoid Gwenn’s glare.

“Because… Florian didn’t take it too kindly when people stole his stuff,” she said prudently. “He would have probably believed it to be a prank, but...”

“Considering his utter lack of a sense of humor, it couldn’t have gone well,” Magalie concluded. “Is that what you were about to say?”

“Don’t you dare insult him!” Gwenn yelled.

“It’s not insulting when you’re telling the truth,” she replied neutrally. “It’s like saying that Ryoji is fat.”

“But somehow you make it sound like an insult anyway,” Ryoji mumbled embarrassingly.

“It doesn’t matter,” Jordana decided. “Let’s assume for a moment Florian was actually killed in the street. Let’s also assume he simply walked through the parking lot, and Gwenn didn’t notice him. How did the culprit manage to send him back to the facility after they killed him? He should have been bleeding a lot, yet there was no trail of blood in the parking lot or on the 1st floor. More importantly, how did we fail to notice anything?”

“I can prolly explain the blood thing,” Bob offered as he raised his hand. “Maybe the culprit simply bandaged him after they were done butcherin’ him, and the reason we didn’t find bandages on ‘im was cuz it burned in the fire.”

“It would make sense,” Gwenn admitted. “Or maybe, instead of using bandages, they actually wrapped him up in some kind of cloth? Then they could have moved his body without anyone noticing!”

“Well, we would recall someone crossing the parking lot carrying a large piece of cloth,” Jordana said, eyebrows raised.

“I… I thought that dead people didn’t bleed?” Typhaine asked shyly. “I must have read that somewhere. So it wouldn’t have been an issue, would it?”

“Not sure,” Gwenn admitted. “The weird thing is that we didn’t notice the culprit at all,” they added in frustration. “As if they had managed to make themselves totally invisible!”

“There must be a simple explanation,” Jordana reasoned. “We just have to think rationally, and then we’ll figure it out.”

“There is a very simple explanation,” Magalie said with a lazy grin. “You’re both lying, and one of you is the culprit. Gwenn probably, since Jordana can’t go upstairs. They probably attacked Typhaine in an attempt to frame her.”

“Will you never fuckin’ close yer mouth?” Bob asked before Gwenn could yell again. “If ya have nuthin’ good to contribute, then be quiet.”

“I think it’s worth considering,” Magalie argued. “If you all stubbornly refuse to hear my theories just because they come from me, then you might miss a vital clue.”

“Sure sure, believe whatever ya like. Anyway, I’m with Jordie here. There must be a simple explanation, and we just gotta find it. We’re sure the culprit didn’t just hide in the bushes?”

“I was sitting by the entrance,” Jordana reminded him. “Even if they had successfully managed to sneak past Gwenn while carrying Florian’s corpse, I would have noticed the culprit at the entrance.”

“Ah, but wasn’t there a rope hanging from a window?” Typhaine asked, raising a finger. “Maybe they dodged the front door and climbed their way into the building!”

“While carrying a corpse?” Magalie asked dismissively.

“Oh, right. That would be difficult.”

“And once again, I would have noticed,” Gwenn said in frustration. “Stop taking me for an idiot, please?”

“Wait wait, I know!” Bob shouted. “What if the body we found in the classroom was a fake?”

“A fake?” Typhaine repeated. “Like a dummy?”

“Yeah! Cuz like, since it was gonna burn anyway, we wouldn’t tell the difference, would we? Meanwhile they… I dunno, dumped Flo’s real body into a hole, jus’ to confuse us!”

“I think I would have noticed if I had done an autopsy of a dummy,” Jordana said in amusement. “Also, how would you explain the smell of burned flesh?”

“Oh shit yer right, I can’t believe I forgot. Guess that doesn’t work, huh?”

Ryoji wasn’t listening to the conversation. He was attempting to picture the street, the laundromat, and the path that led to the research facility. Perhaps the answer was simply hidden in the scenery. Something that he saw everyday but never paid attention to. As he virtually ran through the parking lot, he tried to remember every little detail carefully, hoping one of them would contain the answer.

_The main path was blocked: Gwenn was walking around the parking lot, and Jordana was guarding the front door. Two people to avoid in order to reach the goal. In appearance, an impossibility. How do I solve this riddle?_

His eyes were closed. He relived the scene like a person dreaming – and in his dream, Lisa was showing him the way.

_“_ _You’re not looking in the right place, Ryo. Come on, follow me, I’ll show you.”_

_“Where are we going?”_

_“Always start with the crime scene. Let’s go to the street.”_

_“But… I never went there during the investigation. Lisa, I’m too scared-”_

_“It’s okay. In this world, the street can’t hurt you. Come, follow me.”_

_She grabbed his hand and began to lead him through the garden, careful to avoid stepping on the flowers. Kicking the restaurant’s front door with her feet, she quickly ran for the kitchen, and pushed Ryoji through the back door. From then on, it didn’t take them long to reach the laundromat, and the hole in the wall that led to the street._

_“Wow, this must have been one gruesome murder,” Lisa commented as she crouched near the closest blood puddle. “And I thought I had it rough.”_

_“Are you… real?” He asked uncertainly._

_“Does it matter? Come on, let’s begin our search.”_

_She began to hop around, inspecting every pebble, while Ryoji stood in place stupidly._

_“I don’t know where to look,” he admitted._

_In a second, Lisa was back in front of him. She grinned, and pressed her index finger against his forehead._

_“In here. All the information you need is contained in your memory.”_

_“There’s a lot in there,” Ryoji admitted uneasily. “And some of the stuff scares me.”_

_“That’s okay, I’ll protect you from the scary stuff. I can hold your hand if necessary.”_

_Ryoji nodded._

_Where to look? Was there something in his memory that could help him solve the mystery?_

_“When’s the last time you came here?” Lisa asked gently._

_“A while ago. I had a panic attack.”_

_“Maybe not the best place to start then,” she admitted. “How about… say, when’s the last time you had a conversation with someone about this street?”_

_“It was a few days ago I think. Florian and Gwenn went out there to look for a flower, but it was only a pretext – in truth they wanted to discuss something dangerous, in a place where there wouldn’t be any cameras. That’s when they had the idea to light a huge fire in the parking lot, in order to use the smoke as a distress signal.”_

_“That sounds like a good place to start,” Lisa reflected. “It has the victim, the crime scene and the fire, which is obviously connected to the crime. Did you learn something important that day?”_

_“I...”_

_Suddenly Ryoji could picture himself with Florian and Gwenn in the kitchen. It was before the two left on their own to discuss their plans. Something that Florian had said at the time suddenly came back to him._

_“I was busy searching the streets of Lorient beyond the laundromat – as far as Monoblade would allow me, naturally. If you ever go out there, watch out: past a certain point, the ground is full of holes, it’s quite easy to get hurt.”_

_Ryoji’s eyes opened wide._

_“I… I get it!” He suddenly shouted, placing his palms on Lisa’s shoulders. “I figured it out!”_

_“Of course you did. I knew you could do it.”_

_“Thank you so much Lisa, I couldn’t have done it without you!”_

_“Really? Are you sure about that?”_

_She smirked, though he wasn’t sure what it meant. Bringing her fingers close to his face, she pinched his round nose, and-_

He opened his eyes.

“Guys!” He shouted, careless of the conversation he was interrupting. “I got it!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So? Have you figured it out too? Have you reached the same conclusion as Ryoji? If you did, don't hesitate to brag in the comments!


	66. Class Trial 5 - Storm Edition

“Guys!” Ryoji shouted in excitement. “I got it!”

Five pairs of eyes fell on him at once, and his cheeks flushed.

“Uh… sorry for yelling. I mean, I know how the culprit managed to sneak past Gwenn and Jordana without them noticing.”

“Seriously?” Gwenn asked. “I was beginning to think it was impossible.”

“No, it’s quite simple actually,” Ryoji said with a smile. “The culprit went through the sewers.”

A few confused expressions was the only reward he received. Jordana was the only one that looked more thoughtful than doubtful.

“No,” Magalie said flatly. “That’s as stupid as all the theories we’ve heard so far.”

“I hate to agree with her, but I do,” Gwenn said with a sigh. “After all, there’s only one entrance to the sewers right?”

“Are ya suggestin’ the culprit dug another entrance?” Bob asked curiously. “Maybe it ain’t impossible. If they were _really_ determined… I guess…?”

“If they had done that, we would have found evidence of their efforts,” Magalie objected. “Come on Ryoji, get back to your senses.”

Somehow, the energy with which she tried to refute him only made him stronger.

“They didn’t need to go through all that effort. After all, the street beyond the laundromat has been badly damaged by earthquakes, long ago – or maybe it’s the result of the bombings, I’m not sure. Regardless, there are cracks in the concrete, and a few days ago Florian informed me that some of them were quite deep. We know the sewer maze stretches really far beyond the entry point in my room, don’t we? Is it so hard to believe that with a bit of exploration, you could find a path that connects the street and the secret passage in the research facility?”

“No, it’s not that hard,” Jordana admitted. “It’s like whenever you go _down_ somewhere in this town, you’ll end up in the sewers at some point. From then, you can pretty much go anywhere, granted you can find your way up.”

“Had we known that sooner, we might have been able to save Suzie,” Magalie realized. “What a shame we’re all empty heads.”

“So tha’s what the culprit did,” Bob said, frowning. “They murdered Flo in the street, and then they dived down into the sewers while they carried his body, and they moved all the way up to room 104. Them’s prolly the one who attacked Typhaine too now that I think about it. And then there’s the fire business, which we discussed earlier.”

“But we all have an alibi for when the fire started,” Gwenn reminded him. “So does that mean Typhaine is the culprit?”

“It’s not me!” Typhaine squeaked in fright. “I swear I didn’t kill Florian!”

“It’s not that I don’t want to believe you, but-”

“Starting the fire might have required some kind of setup,” Jordana said thoughtfully. “I suggest we leave that aside for now though. Firstly, do we all agree that Florian was killed in the street?”

“Seems like it,” Bob shrugged.

“Who else could the blood belong to?” Ryoji asked.

“I didn’t check the body,” Gwenn said with a wince. “But if Florian’s corpse showed signs that he was stabbed, then that’s another clue in favor of this theory.”

“There were indeed multiple lacerations on his skin,” Jordana agreed. “It’s hard to say how deep they were however, because of the condition of his body. And uh… well obviously I’m not a coroner, so I don’t know what my examination is worth, honestly.”

“It’s all we have for now, so we’ll take it,” Gwenn said rationally. “Thanks for doing this for us. It’s… quite a nasty job.”

Jordana made throw-up gestures.

“Agreed.”

“So should we move on?” Magalie asked, lazily fiddling with her braid.

“I suppose we might as well,” Ryoji replied. “Since this issue’s been solved-”

“Hold on!” Bob shouted.

“Huh? What is it Bobby?”

“I jus’ remembered sumethin’ important. If the culprit went down into the sewers to move Flo’s body, shouldn’t they be like, super wet by now?”

“Should they?” Ryoji asked, somewhat startled. “There’s a rocky pavement down in the sewers. Sure, it’s a little narrow and doesn’t cover all the tunnels, but I think it’s safe to assume the culprit used it to avoid getting wet.”

“Nah Ryo, that dun’t work no more.”

“What do you mean?” Jordana asked, equally confused.

“Y’all haven’t been down the sewers in a while, have ya? I s’pose it’s cuz it’s been rainin’ a lot lately, but the pavement’s totally flooded. Ya can’t go _anywhere_ without gettin’ at least yer legs wet, and that’s when yer lucky. In some tunnels, it’s yer full body.”

“I… I see,” Ryoji said embarrassingly. “So I guess I was wrong then, wasn’t I? None of us is wet here after all.”

“Wait a sec,” Gwenn said suspiciously. “When’s the last time you visited the sewers Bob?”

“Well… ‘twas when I first got Furantur-crazy and Rebecca had to chase me. Why?”

“How come you forgot to tell us that? It’s super important! Dude, you were hallucinating, how can we trust your memory at all?”

Bob looked almost offended.

“Okay so, I know I saw sum’ messed up shit while I was sick, but the Furantur can’t change my perception of things _that_ much.”

“Didn’t you say once that you saw Rebecca as a giant aquatic monster?” Typhaine asked timidly. “That sounds like a big change in your perception, I think.”

“That’s… true but... okay, lemme explain. How do I say this…? Ya see, it’s true that I couldn’t see Rebecca as herself no more, but the monster did all the movements just like her, dig? My hallucinations were able to turn her into a monster, but there couldn’t have been two Beccas or none at all.”

“Basically what you’re saying is that your hallucinations _transformed_ reality around you, but they couldn’t add or remove anything?” Ryoji asked curiously.

“Yeah, tha’s pretty much it. It’s like plasterin’ a filter on reality, in a way. When I was down them sewers, the water looked all green and toxic, but it was still water. My body remembers bein’ soaked by the way, I think it even got me sick at some point. My socks from that day are definit’ly still damp,” he added grumpily.

“Fine, I won’t question your memory anymore,” Gwenn said reluctantly. “But you can’t blame me for being suspicious.”

“Sure, I’m jus’ sorry I didn’t explain meself properly from the beginning,” Bob apologized. “Will try to do better next time.”

“Still, that’s quite a big problem,” Ryoji stated. “Because now we’re at an impasse again.”

“And it was such a satisfying solution too,” Magalie mocked. “Too bad it was totally stupid. Those surgeons shouldn’t have fixed your tongue all those weeks ago, we were much better off when you were silent _.”_

“That’s really uncalled for,” Ryoji muttered, hiding his face behind his hands.

“Don’t give up Ryoji,” Jordana said with a smile.

She had that glint in her eye, the one that said: _“Wait until you figure out what I just deduced, it’s going to blow your mind”._ It made Ryoji feel a little more hopeful.

“I don’t want to give up, but this case is giving me a headache,” he complained. “I really thought I was onto something...”

“You were. In fact, I think we have enough to determine the culprit already.”

“We do?” Gwenn shouted in excitement. “Well, don’t keep us waiting, spit it out!”

“Not so fast. We need to go step by step, or-”

“I don’t care about the steps! Just tell us who it is!”

“Calm down,” she snapped. “I’m telling you, we need to go about it slowly. I’m not here to educate you all – we need to reach an answer together.”

Gwenn groaned in frustration.

“Can’tcha give us a hint at least?” Bob asked.

“Probably. I’m just wondering if Ryoji’s going to get it.”

Ryoji was thinking very intensely, wondering what she could possibly be talking about.

_Come on, if she’s managed to figure it out, you probably should too. It can’t be that hard._

“Why are you smiling?” Gwenn asked Jordana, exasperated. “This isn’t a game you know? Sometimes it feels like you haven’t changed at all.”

“That’s rude,” she replied quietly. “Also it’s obviously not true. Come on Ryoji, I know you can do it. Think about it: the culprit couldn’t _afford_ to get wet, that would have been way too suspicious. So what could they do to avoid that?”

“Get a change of clothes, I guess. But we’re all wearing the same clothes we wore this morning – it’s quite obvious, considering it’s mostly prison unif-”

He stopped dead in his track. His own words had reminded him of a clue: the dirty prison uniform that he and Jordana had found hidden inside a washing machine.

“Oh,” he said quietly.

“What’s that ‘oh’ about?” Gwenn asked, pounding their desk in frustration.

Their whole body was shaking, they were getting so excited they couldn’t stand in place.

“Why do you have to keep the suspense? Just explain what’s happening!”

Ryoji showed them the picture of the dirty uniform on their monopad.

“Jordana and I found this uniform hidden inside one of the washing machines,” he explained calmly. “Considering how dirty and damp it was, it could easily have been the one the culprit wore when they ventured down into the sewers.”

“It sure as hell _smelled_ like the sewers,” Bob said in disgust.

“I see,” Gwenn said. “If we figure out who it belongs to, then we can probably tell who the culprit is. Is that what you meant?” They asked Jordana.

“Almost, but not quite. This uniform is actually mine.”

“Then obviously Jordana is the culprit!” Magalie yelled, pretending to be startled.

“Yes, she probably rolled in there with her wheelchair,” Bob said sarcastically. “Nah, who _actually_ wore it?”

“Think about it,” Jordana insisted. “The prison uniforms are tailored to match our proportions exactly, right? I doubt the culprit would have stolen it if they weren’t a woman themselves – it wouldn’t fit properly, thus making it quite uncomfortable. Not to mention, the fabric would probably be quite strained, which I didn’t notice at all during my investigation.”

“So it had to be one of the remaining women, either Magalie or Typhaine,” Gwenn understood.

“But I’m way too short to wear that thing,” Typhaine protested. “Even if I rolled the sleeves, it wouldn’t be handy at all! I would drown in all the fabric.”

“On the other hand, Magalie and I almost have the same body type,” Jordana supplied. “She’s a bit taller than me, but it’d probably not be much of a problem.”

Magalie snorted.

“So that’s it? _That’s_ the fruit of your brilliant reasoning? It’s almost as idiotic as the surgical mask from earlier. I don’t even know why I’m even bothering to argue with you morons.”

Jordana raised her eyebrows.

“But it’s not idiotic though, is it? The culprit also wore this uniform when they attacked Florian, which is how it got stained with blood. They would have chosen it carefully – after all, you don’t want to be bothered by ill-fitting clothes at such a crucial moment. What if Florian fought back?”

“That’s still not conclusive evidence,” Magalie said dismissively. “That doesn’t count as proof in any way.”

“Uh… really?” Bob asked. “Sounds pretty conclusive to me.”

“Besides, it’s not all I’ve got,” Jordana added with a smirk. “I found it weird that you felt the need to assault Ryoji with a sword during the investigation, only to completely give up on the endeavor the _second_ the fire started. Isn’t it a strange? It’s too dramatic, too unnecessary. But now I understand: it served two purposes at once.”

“Two?” Gwenn repeated.

They seemed really engrossed by her speech – almost like they were about to beg her to continue.

“The first reason is simple: it gave her an alibi,” Jordana said proudly. “She made a point of attacking Ryoji the specific moment the fire broke out. It wouldn’t have been enough if she had simply stood next to someone – we might have forgotten about it and accused her anyway. With her awful behavior from these last few days, she needed a solid defense: and what better than a fight to permanently carve the moment in Ryoji’s memory?”

“So she wanted to make us believe that the fire was the real cause of death?” Typhaine asked.

“It almost worked when ya think about it,” Bob noted. “If we hadn’t solved the mystery of the sewers, we wouldn’t have had any other choice but to accept it.”

“What about the second reason?” Gwenn asked eagerly.

“I’m less sure about this one, but… I wonder if Magalie didn’t hope to disable Ryoji.”

Ryoji paled.

“Disable me…?”

“You’ve proven quite good at solving mysteries – removing one of our best investigators from the picture would have been a smart way to tip the scales in her favor. I don’t think she ever planned to kill you, but if you were injured too badly perhaps...”

Ryoji gulped.

“She… really _did_ try to hurt me,” he admitted in a tiny voice. “I thought I was going to die.”

“Tha’s so messed up,” Bob said angrily, raising his fists in front of his chest.

“It’s okay Bob,” Gwenn said darkly. “She’ll soon get the punishment she deserves. She probably killed Florian _and_ Rebecca.”

“In your dreams maybe,” Magalie snapped, somewhat annoyed. “This is all bullshit, and you know it. You have nothing on me.”

“Your words mean nothing,” Gwenn countered, clearly enjoying themselves. “Jordana’s logic is sound and you know it.”

Magalie crinkled her nose in disgust.

“You don’t _believe_ her. No one in their right mind would give credence to that sorry parody of deductive reasoning. You just _want_ me to be the culprit because I’m the person you hate the most. Quit lying to yourself.”

“Sounds like sumeone is real pissed,” Bob noted, equally riled up. “Wonder what that’s all about.”

“Fuck off,” Magalie snarled. “I have every right to be pissed when I’m being accused of murder!”

“It wouldn’t be your first time anyway,” Gwenn said snidely.

Magalie flinched.

“What the fuck did you say, _bitch?”_

“You heard me.”

For the first time in days, Magalie looked thoroughly surprised and disgusted. The mask had fallen, to reveal and even uglier expression beneath it.

“I sacrificed myself for you all!” She yelled in fury. “How dare you compare these two events!”

“Huh,” Jordana noted. “Some actual, genuine emotions. It’s been a while.”

Magalie’s composure immediately changed, and her fury was replaced with carefully constructed contempt.

“Whatever,” she said lazily. “Vote for me if you like. I don’t really care anymore.”

“Huh?” Typhaine muttered, dumbfounded. “Does that mean you admit it?”

“Maybe.”

“Fuck off, that ain’t an answer!” Bob complained.

“Does it matter?” Gwenn asked, shaking with excitement. “Let’s start the vote already! We can finally bring Florian’s killer to justice!”

“Hold on,” Ryoji said hastily, sweating nervously. “We still don’t know how the fire started.”

“Who cares about that? The only point of the fire was to create a false cause of death and make it seem like Magalie couldn’t be the culprit. Now that we know that Florian was already dead by the time his body was burned, it doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Gwenn for fuck’s sake,” Jordana sighed. “Don’t try to rush the verdict when there are mysteries left to solve, we’ve discussed this! What the hell is wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me is that my best friend got _murdered,”_ Gwenn shouted, baring their teeth. “Will you just let me have my revenge?”

“Calm down please,” Ryoji begged. “We shouldn’t be too hasty!”

“It almost killed us last time,” Typhaine squeaked in fright.

“Try to think about it that way: at the end of the debate, our conclusion will most likely be the same, but what if Magalie had an accomplice? If that’s the case, I’d like to know who it was,” Jordana reasoned. “So please, will you chill the fuck out?”

That seemed to bring Gwenn back to earth.

“An accomplice huh?” They said slowly. “Hm. It’s not impossible actually.”

They glared at Typhaine menacingly, but she looked away.

“I already told you, I was attacked,” she pleaded.

“And I already told you, no one can prove it, so stop shoving that excuse in my face. You were the only one in the building at the time, so who else could have ignited the lighter and poured the gasoline?”

Ryoji blinked. The phrasing made him realize something.

“What did you say?”

“Eh? Didn’t you hear me? I said Typhaine was the only one who could have possibly ignited the lighter and poured the gasoline out of its container.”

“But you don’t _need_ to ignite the lighter,” Ryoji objected. “I mean, you have to do it once obviously, but it’s one of those lighters that stay on once you open them. The culprit could have simply placed it on the floor and left the scene.”

“Yeah? What does it change? At the end of the day, the culprit still needed to go to the classroom on the 2nd floor. Even if they placed the lighter in advance, they also needed to pour the gasoline, didn’t they? I don’t get your point.”

“Right… you’re right of course.”

Gwenn blinked.

“Am I? I thought you had an objection?”

“I’m just trying to understand what happened. I really don’t think Typhaine did it.”

“Thank you,” Typhaine mumbled.

“But… who else could it have been?” Gwenn asked in puzzlement. “I’m open to suggestions of course, but I don’t see how it could have been anyone else.”

“As I said previously, it’s possible some kind of setup was used,” Jordana reminded them. “How about we try to figure out what it was?”

“I think we should start with the rope,” Ryoji stated carefully. “After all, it _was_ hanging from the 2nd floor’s window, wasn’t it? That can’t be a coincidence.”

“I thought it was weird too,” Bob admitted. “Maybe the culprit planned to escape thru there after they set the place on fire?”

“I don’t think that’s it,” Jordana reflected. “When I pulled onto that rope, it fell into my hands with barely any resistance. It would have been very dangerous to try and use it for climbing.”

“You… pulled on the rope?” Gwenn asked in astonishment. “Why?”

“I… don’t know. I saw it hanging there, and I wanted to know what was up. Why do you look so worried?”

“I saw the rope too,” Gwenn confessed. “But I thought it was weird that it was here, so I didn’t touch it. I sensed a trap.”

“A trap?” Typhaine repeated. “But it was only a rope!”

“Yes, but after Rebecca’s murder, I was… well, on edge. I had a bad feeling.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have pulled it,” Jordana said, getting paler. “But when it fell, I noticed that the tip was burned, so I assumed it wasn’t attached to anything in that room. I don’t know what its purpose was, really.”

“It certainly was weird,” Ryoji admitted. “The tip had burned, and the other end of the rope was buried underneath the earth. There must have been a purpose to all this, but… what could it be?”

“Who cares about that?” Magalie asked, somewhat uneasy. “Why do you need to know every detail? Just give it up already.”

“What, you’re ready to confess?” Gwenn asked softly.

“Maybe?”

She looked uncertain. Ryoji couldn’t tell whether or not she was lying – it was as if she didn’t know it herself.

“We’re not going to stop here, regardless of what you say,” Jordana warned. “So please, can’t you just be quiet?”

“But isn’t this exhausting?” Magalie countered. “Look at us, it’s the longest trial we’ve ever been through. Do we really need to answer every little question? Come on, let’s just… stop this. Aren’t you tired?”

No one dared to admit it, but it was written plainly on their faces. Gwenn especially seemed to be getting impatient again. They were pounding their podium softly with their fists, once every two seconds, and tapping their feet. Ryoji felt his throat getting dry.

_We’re running out of time._

“A-anyway, about that rope,” he began, unsure what he was trying to say. “It was uh… obviously not used for climbing.”

_Buy some time, keep them entertained. It doesn’t matter what you say as long as they keep listening to you._

“Okay, I’m with you so far,” Jordana nodded. “But then, what was it for?”

“I...”

His hands were sweaty. He hastily tried to fit them in his pockets, before remembering he didn’t have any.

“I think it was attached to a certain object in the room,” he suggested, trying to sound confident.

“A certain object in the room?” Magalie repeated, frowning. “What the hell does that even mean?”

“There weren’t that many objects in the room,” Jordana stated conversationally. “Mostly tables and chairs. What are you referring to?”

The answer came naturally to Ryoji: it didn’t even occur to him that it was the correct one.

“The gas container of course! The rope was probably tied around its handle. It burned when the fire erupted, which is why it fell when you attempted to pull it.”

He waited for a reaction, but was met only with silence. He began to sweat, his heart was racing in his chest. Panic was rising in his throat, threatening to choke him.

Then he realized the meaning of what he had just said.

“Oh,” he blurted out stupidly.

“The… implications of that,” Jordana said, eyes wide. “Have you thought of the implications?”

“Holy shit,” Bob whispered, apparently catching on. “This is insane.”

“Huh? Huh? Huh?” Gwenn said, apparently incapable of understanding what was going on. “What’s the matter everyone? Why do you all look so shocked?”

_They must no longer be capable of thinking rationally anymore._

“It’s… quite simple,” Ryoji said in a raspy voice. “If I’m right, and the rope was indeed tied around the container’s handle, then whoever pulled on the rope would have toppled it over, right?”

“And as its contents poured out on the floorboards, the gasoline probably came in contact with the lighter’s flame,” Jordana concluded for him. “That’s how the culprit could have started the fire without being present on the scene!”

“That’s ridiculous!” Magalie shouted. “Not only is it baseless conjecture, but why would the culprit even need to do something like that?”

“You mean, why would _you_ benefit from something like that?” Gwenn growled. “Why don’t you tell us? It was your idea after all.”

“Well-”

She didn’t say anything, and instead folded her arms, visibly angered by something.

_What’s her deal? Her actions aren’t making sense. What is she trying to do?_

“But she’s right,” Typhaine said timidly. “It’s a weird idea, isn’t it? The culprit could hardly pull on the rope without being seen. After all, Gwenn and Jordana were in the parking lot the whole time. Unless it was one of them?”

“Yeah tha’s a good point actually, whodunnit?” Bob asked curiously. “I know it wasn’t me. Anyone wishes to confess?”

“As I already said, I pulled on the rope once,” Jordana explained, biting her lip. “But the fire had already started by that point.”

“’kay. Anyone else?”

No one answered.

“C’mon guys, it’s okay,” Bob said gently. “Florian was already dead when the fire started, so it’s prolly no big deal. It’s not like anyone knew, yeah?”

There was no answer.

“There’s only so many people it could be,” Ryoji reflected carefully. “Typhaine was inside the building when the fire broke out, Magalie and I were fighting, and Bob was above the restaurant.”

“It could only have been Gwenn or Jordie,” Bob understood. “C’mon, jus’ tell us, won’tcha? So we can move on.”

“It wasn’t me,” Jordana assured, shaking her head. “I only noticed the rope after the fire started.”

“It wasn’t me either!” Gwenn protested. “I was suspicious of that thing from the beginning. I didn’t even touch it!”

“Whut?”

Bob seemed puzzled.

“But… one o’ ya musta dunnit. It makes no sense otherwise.”

“It just proves that your little theory is entirely wrong,” Magalie snarled. “That’s what happens when you try to base a debate on conjecture.”

“I wonder,” Ryoji began. “Was this rope in place since this morning?”

“It was,” Gwenn confirmed. “Florian told me he found it strange too.”

“Since this morning…?” Jordana repeated uneasily. “So it was most likely set up last night.”

“Wha’s wrong with that?” Bob asked.

“Nothing I suppose. Unless...”

“Yes?” Ryoji asked.

“Does that mean the two murders are related? I doubt anyone else was up last night. Right?”

Ryoji’s eyes widened.

“No way! You mean they had planned to kill Florian from the very beginning?”

“It might be worse than that,” Jordana said in horror. “Because… try to recall what Rebecca’s culprits were trying to do.”

“They were-”

Ryoji’s throat died. He couldn’t say it. Gwenn was glaring bullets at him, but Ryoji was losing himself in a coughing fit.

“They were tryna kill Gwenn,” Bob finished for him, glumly.

“What the _fuck?”_ Gwenn shouted. “You can’t mean… you can’t possibly mean-”

“It’s still very uncertain,” Jordana said hastily. “Even if we’re faced with the same culprits, they might not have had the same objective.”

“Or they might have failed,” Ryoji added.

Gwenn breathed out, very slowly.

“Okay, okay, I’m calm. I’m not freaking out. Everything’s fine.”

“But still,” Bob began. “If they are the same culprits-”

“Don’t say it,” Magalie cut in coldly.

“Huh? Why?”

“I have the feeling you’re about to say something stupid, and it’s already giving me a headache. Please, for the love of God, _shut the fuck up.”_

“Mag?” Bob asked, genuine worry in his voice. “What… happened to ya?”

“That’s irrelevant!” She yelled in anger. “What matters is that you shut up!”

To everyone’s astonishment, Bob slapped her. She was stunned into silence, probably too shocked to speak.

“Listen here ya lil’ shit,” Bob snarled. “I’ve had enough of ya, got it? I’m not sure whatcha did yet, but the way I see things, ya at least committed _one_ o’ the crimes that we’re tryna solve today, and tha’s fuckin’ unforgivable, no matter what yer motive was. All the respect I had for ya is fuckin’ gone, so dun’t try to get in my way, else ya’ll regret it. Ya got all that?”

She was too proud to nod, but all Bob could do was grunt in displeasure.

“Well fuck off, I’ma say it anyway. If them guys that killed Flo are the same ones that killed Becca, then it means they were tryna makin’ Gwenn the culprit instead o’ them. Tha’s prolly what the rope was for. Which means...”

Bob took a deep breath.

“Which means tha’ maybe Flo was still alive when he came outta the sewers, and the fire is actually what killed ‘im.”

It was at this point that Gwenn began to laugh. At first it was a discreet chuckle, which turned into an uncontrollable fit of giggles – and after a minute, it became a completely irrepressible hysterical laughter. Gwenn was crying and laughing at the same time, clutching their stomach painfully as they attempted to breathe.

“Aaah… aaaah,” they wheezed. “Florian… still alive…? That’s a good one!”

They almost fell on their knees, and when everyone thought they were finally done, they were suddenly caught into another fit of giggles. For a while, it was the only sound that resonated in the quiet clearing, as if the birds themselves had stopped singing so they could listen.

“I’m serious,” Bob said, clearly a little pained.

“Yeah right,” Gwenn replied, wiping their eyes. “Best joke I heard in forever. Seriously. I need more jokes like that.”

“That’s what I was warning you all about,” Magalie said through gritted teeth. “If I’m going to be forced to hear such stupidities, I’d rather be anywhere else.”

“It ain’t stupid!” Bob protested passionately. “I dun’t care ‘bout whatcher sayin’ anyway!”

He turned around so he could face his boyfriend.

“Ryo! Ya believe me, right? I ain’t mad no more, and I’m pretty sure my theory makes sense!”

Ryoji looked uncomfortable.

“Well, I don’t exactly- that is to say, I would not… uh...”

Bob deflated.

“Ya think it’s stupid too.”

“Not necessarily!” Ryoji promised. “Uh… I assume you have an explanation for all the blood in the street?”

“Not yet, but we can figure that out together, yeah? We just gotta put our heads together!”

Gwenn was laughing again.

“He’s actually serious! I can’t believe it!”

“Course I am!” Bob shouted. “I ain’t here to mess around!”

“A beautiful sentiment,” Magalie said sarcastically. “Too bad you don’t have the brains to actually make anything useful with it.”

“Okay, seriously.”

Bob slammed his podium to get more attention.

“Have ya noticed how desperately she’s tryna shut me up? Tha’s definit’ly super fishy! I gotta be onto sumethin’!”

“But Bob, do you even realize what you’re suggesting?” Jordana asked, a hand covering her mouth. “If you’re right, that means Florian was actually an accomplice to the crime.”

Bob blinked.

“It would mean he willingly chose to sacrifice himself,” she continued, tilting her head forward.

“Yeah?”

“Are you… suggesting Florian was suicidal?”

Bob gulped.

“Uh...”

“Because the worst thing is, there actually _is_ evidence to support your theory,” Jordana said, very slowly.

“What?” Magalie asked. “Impossible!”

“Don’t make me laugh again,” Gwenn said, sounding amused. “You’re just being silly.”

“There’s just no way,” Typhaine reasoned, putting her fingers against her temples.

“I sincerely don’t want to believe it,” Jordana said. “Hey Ryo… do you know what I’m talking about?”

Ryoji searched his memory carefully.

“Ah!” he said suddenly. “Florian’s shoes!”

Magalie’s nostrils flared. Typhaine tilted her head.

“What do his shoes have to do with any of this?”

“We didn’t find them on Florian’s corpse,” Jordana explained. “His socks either, actually – he was barefooted. I always thought it was strange.”

“They probably just burned in the fire,” Gwenn said dismissively.

“Shoes don’t burn that easily,” Jordana retorted severely. “It’s much more likely he took them off at some point.”

“You mean the culprit removed them, right?” Typhaine asked. “But why did they need to do that?”

“That’s what I don’t understand,” Jordana explained. “The culprit… no, fuck it, let’s just say ‘Magalie’ at this point. According to our previous deductions, Magalie came out of the sewers carrying a corpse. Thanks to Bob’s testimony we know the water level in the sewers is quite high – so in all logic, her legs should have been wet, right? But to avoid leaving footprints in the hallway, she should have removed _her_ shoes before climbing the ladder.”

“I’m with you so far.”

“But she never did,” Jordana continued, apparently annoyed at her own deductions. “And when we discovered the corpse, we didn’t find any shoes on its body. Why would that be? Magalie wouldn’t gain any benefit by removing Florian’s shoes. In all logic, had he been a corpse, his feet should have never touched the floor.”

“And from that you’re deducing that Florian was still alive when he exited the sewers?” Magalie asked. “You’re not even considering that I could have purposefully removed his shoes to mislead you?”

Jordana shook her head.

“You had no way of guessing we would have this specific conversation. I’m not saying it’s the _only_ possibility, mind you. I just want to know what you guys think.”

“I-” Ryoji began.

“I think this debate should come to an end,” Gwenn said coldly.

They were staring at Jordana with dead eyes.

“I don’t know what went through your brain this time, but you clearly need a nap. It was amusing enough when it was just Bob spouting nonsense, but from someone as intelligent as you, I take it as a personal offense to Florian’s memory.”

“A personal offense?”

“I’m not sure I understand all this sacrifice crap, but you’re basically saying Magalie and Florian were working together to have me killed, right? It shows that when you work with pure logic and discard emotions completely, you can arrive at conclusions that are simply absurd. And if we’re all so exhausted that we’re beginning to suggest absurdities like this, then we’d better shut up and leave.”

They turned their attention toward Magalie.

“Magalie, it’s over for you,” they said coldly. “I’m going to vote for you as the culprit, whether or not you admit it.”

“Fine,” she said in a whisper. “Do what you like.”

“There we go. Case close, let’s start the vote.”

“You’re sure?” Monoblade asked curiously. “You’ve got everything you wanted?”

“Of course I do you stupid bear! Now let’s finish this.”

Gwenn took out their monopad, opening the voting app.

“Gwenn,” Ryoji said hastily, attempting to stop them.

“I’m not listening to you anymore, Ryoji,” they warned. “The vote has begun now, and-”

“Why do you assume Florian wanted you _dead?”_ Ryoji asked, trying to sound calm.

Gwenn froze. A single bead of sweat (or was it a tear?) rolled down their cheek. They began to shake again. Their hand closed into a fist.

“What… what do you mean?”

“Haven’t you considered that instead of killing you, Florian was trying to save you?” Ryoji asked softly.

Gwenn stared at Ryoji without a word – never in his life would he forget that stare. There was something in it about an individual who thought they had reached the limits of how much pain they could endure, only to find out that there was more beyond the wall, stretching beyond their sight.

“No,” they said softly.

“Consider it,” Ryoji begged.

“No, no, no,” they said, shaking their head. “I don’t...”

“Please!”

“It’s impossible,” Gwenn said in a shaky voice.

They were hugging themselves and twitching uncontrollably.

“Right?” They asked, trying to catch someone’s glare. “Because...”

Their eyes seem to shift back into focus.

“Because… the blood,” they said desperately. “You said it earlier: no one could survive after losing so much blood. You said it yourself!”

_They’re arguing for us. We can work with this._

“It’s true, we said that,” Ryoji agreed, forcing a smile. “But is that the end of it?”

“It’s possible Magalie gave some of her own blood to lead us to the believe that Florian had died,” Jordana said carefully. “That’d explain all these bandages on her arms and hands.”

“I never did that!” Magalie protested. “Besides, even if I did, it would never be enough to make such a large puddle. You’re clearly grasping at straws.”

“I might be,” Jordana admitted. “But you have yet to explain where those bandages on your arms come from.”

Magalie remained silent.

“But even so, it’s still not enough blood, is it?” Typhaine asked timidly.

Ryoji gulped.

“No, it’s not enough. But, I just feel like...”

The words died in his throat.

“Ryo?” Jordana asked. “What do you have in mind?”

“I just thought that… it’s really been a while since we’ve seen Hope, hasn’t it?”

There were no screams, no wide eyes, no gasps – everyone had already exhausted their capacity to express their shock.

“Shit,” Bob said miserably. “Mag killed the fuckin’ cat.”

“No,” Gwenn cried. “That’s a lie!”

“Hope,” Typhaine whispered in pain. “It can’t be.”

“You have-” Magalie began.

“No proof,” Jordana finished. “We know. We can easily ask Monoblade though.”

“Eh?” The robot said wearily. “Why me?”

“Last trial the cat was with us in the courtroom,” she reminded him. “I don’t understand why it’s not the case this time. We could do with the emotional support.”

Her tone was factual, devoid of emotions. She seemed to have crossed some sort of line, where nothing could hurt her anymore. At any rate, she seemed determined to wrap things up.

“Do I have to answer your question?” Monoblade tried.

“I think there’s a rule somewhere about you having to answer our questions, provided they concern the killing game. I’m technically asking a question regarding the logistics of trials, so you should have to answer me.”

She closed her eyes.

“Or you could just do it out of pity. That could work.”

“Pity it is. The cat is dead. Happy now?”

Jordana didn’t bother replying. Ryoji paled.

“It can’t be,” he said in horror. “Why on earth… what could...”

“What could compel you to go so far?” Typhaine asked softly. “Killing an innocent animal, it’s just… I don’t have the words.”

“The answer can wait,” Jordana reminded her. “We’re not done here.”

“The cat’s death might have nothing to do with the crime,” Gwenn said weakly. “There’s too many possibilities, too many, too many. Florian, he… he would never agree to this plan!”

“If the blood in the street came from the cat, how do you explain the lacerations on Florian’s skin?” Magalie chirped. “If you can’t provide an explanation for when and how he got hurt, I won’t accept your theory!”

“Stop fighting us!” Bob yelled. “Why the fuck are ya still resisting?”

“Leave it to me,” Jordana said placidly. “I think we don’t need to look very far for that one. Magalie and Florian needed to be sure the illusion would be convincing, so they had to give up as much blood as possible.”

Gwenn blinked – and for a brief moment they seemed to grasp control back over themselves.

“No,” they said firmly. “I can accept that Magalie would inflict those wounds on herself, but Florian was way too dainty for that. He would have never agreed to this!”

“He did seem like the delicate type,” Bob admitted. “I wonder tho.”

“What do you wonder?” Ryoji asked.

“If ya really _must_ give up yer blood, there are ways. In order t’make yer body numb.”

“This conversation is making me uncomfortable,” Gwenn warned.

“Same here,” Ryoji admitted. “But it’s important to the case. What do you think Bob?”

“Well, I heard a story once ‘bout a woman drinkin’ a big bottle o’ vodka, then commitin’ suicide in her bath after opening her veins. Cuz alcohol numbs ya, yeah? Flo coulda used that.”

“Of course!” Jordana said. “Two vodka bottles were stolen, not just one.”

“Are you serious?” Typhaine asked doubtfully. “Are you saying that when he attacked me, Florian was _drunk?”_

“Hella drunk,” Bob confirmed. “Tha’s why he hit ya so clumsily, I reckon.”

“But… that’s ridiculous,” Gwenn argued. “Would he ever commit to such a risky plan?”

There was a moment of embarrassed silence.

“Yeah, he would,” Bob decided. “We loved our Flo, but he could be a lil’ dense at times.”

“He probably promised Magalie that he could handle it,” Jordana surmised, her voice devoid of amusement.

“And he did,” Ryoji concluded. “Despite everything, his plan worked perfectly, didn’t it?”

“There’s nothing perfect about that!” Gwenn yelled in horror. “Why are you all accepting this so easily?”

“Because… well, we found the debris of the second vodka bottle near Florian’s, body,” Ryoji explained. “I assume he placed the lighter next to the can as soon as he arrived, and then finished the bottle by himself. He couldn’t afford to be conscious as the fire killed him, that’s one of the most painful ways to die. So… he forced himself to fall into a coma.”

“We should have realized sooner,” Jordana said in frustration. “There were no restraints binding him when we found the corpse, and no blow to his head either. If he had been killed by someone else, they couldn’t have made sure that he wouldn’t run away.”

“Maybe he was tied up, but he restraints burned in the fire,” Gwenn insisted. “And that’s not even the most important part! Because no one pulled on the rope, remember? Jordana didn’t do it, and I didn’t do it either! I never did!”

“Ya swear?” Bob asked suspiciously.

“Yes! On the name of… I don’t know, all the times we’ve spent together since the beginning of this adventure, I swear that it’s the truth!”

 _They’re not lying_ _,_ Ryoji realized. _What does this mean? Was my assumption wrong all along?_

“I’m repeating myself, but I never pulled it either,” Jordana stated calmly. “Someone must have though. I can’t imagine that we could be wrong after all the evidence we’ve explained.”

“Maybe Magalie did it herself?” Typhaine suggested timidly. “Maybe she found a way, somehow…”

Magalie didn’t reply.

“She was with me at the time,” Ryoji reminded her. “We were fighting, remember? There’s no way she could have pulled on the rope when she was right in front of me.”

“What ‘bout ya Typh’?” Bob asked. “Ya sure ya have nuthin’ to do with it? Even by accident?”

“I’m positive. I was attacked before the fire started, and I couldn’t even move after that.”

“What about you Bob?” Gwenn asked desperately. “No one can confirm your alibi, so in theory...”

“Me? Tha’s rich. I think ya woulda’ve noticed me if I had walked thru the parking lot, yeah?”

Gwenn looked down in shame.

“I don’t know. I don’t understand anything anymore.”

Ryoji’s fingers were so tense around his podium they were beginning to ache. He removed them carefully and began to rub them against his chest.

_Use your memory, Ryoji. The answer is never far away._

He raised his hand uncertainly.

“I uh… have a question. Gwenn, what’s the last thing Florian told you before he died?”

“Everything’s going to be fine,” Gwenn repeated flatly.

Their face fell.

“He was lying,” they realized. “Lying to my face. He knew that he was going to die.”

“Didn’t he say anything else?” Jordana insisted.

“He told me that I shouldn’t forget the logs. Dry wood… burns quite well.”

Ryoji covered his mouth with one hand.

“The logs,” he realized. “Gwenn, did you move them?”

“Huh? What’s that got to do with anything? Yes, I moved most of them, but I didn’t have time to finish.”

“Because the fire broke out mid-way,” Jordana understood.

“Yeah, exactly. Why does it matter? My distress signal idea was dumb anyway. The 2nd floor burned to a crisp, and no one came to rescue us.”

“That’s not it,” Ryoji said, one hand on his temple. “I just remembered: Florian is the one who taught me how to cut these logs, and to bind them together with rope. And the rope we used is identical from the one that was hanging from the window on the 2nd floor.”

Gwenn opened their mouth, but no sound came out.

“He knew all along,” Jordana deduced. “Killing Bob was his plan A, but killing himself had always been his plan B. Their plan B,” she added, jerking a thumb toward Magalie.

“So he made sure that I stack the logs close to the building,” Ryoji understood. “There was no need to bind them with ropes at all, but it was so that Gwenn wouldn’t realize they were pulling the one that was hanging from the window.”

“But wait, are you saying that the rope that was hanging from the window was actually attached to one of the bundle of logs?” Typhaine asked with a frown. “How on earth did we missed that?”

“The ground was dug up!” Jordana suddenly understood. “He buried the rope partially under the earth, to conceal the fact that it was tied around one of the bundle of logs!”

“It was probably quite frail too,” Ryoji added. “It most likely snapped when Gwenn moved the firewood. But by this point, the gas container had already toppled, and its contents where spilling onto the lighter.”

“By all means, Gwenn should have realized something was strange, had it not been for the sudden brazier erupting in the building,” Jordana continued. “It was such a shock, it probably eclipsed all other thoughts.”

“And from this point, it was over. We couldn’t stop the fire from spreading without getting hurt, and by the time the helicopters arrived, it was too late.”

“Hold on, yer goin’ too fast,” Bob said, breathing in and out. “So like… Flo killed himself, yeah? Or rather, he forced Gwenn to kill him, by tellin’ them exactly how to trigger the trap. But what ‘bout Mag in all this?”

“What about me? What do you mean?” She asked, seemingly shocked that he cared about her.

“Why would ya agree to help? Ya had nuthin’ to gain from this plan. Cuz at the end of the day, ya didn’t kill Flo, didja? So if we voted for ya… ya’d die too, yeah?”

“She would,” Jordana agreed. “Yet since the beginning of this trial, she’s purposefully tried over and over to lead us on the wrong path. Why?”

“That must be because… it was her trap all along,” Gwenn said desperately. “Isn’t she the real culprit? She’s just trying to confuse us so she can escape!”

“She can’t be the culprit,” Jordana said firmly. “We’ve uncovered too much evidence to back down now.”

“But still,” Bob said, staring at Magalie. “If everythin’ we’ve said so far is true, then… ya opened yer veins for Gwenn’s sake. Ya killed the cat for Gwenn’s sake. Ya attacked Ryo for Gwenn’s sake. Ya lied to us, ya tried to make yerself seem as suspicious as possible, all for Gwenn’s sake. Now I get that Flo would do sum’ crazy shit for Gwenn, cuz they were probably in love and stuff. But what’s innit for ya?”

Magalie folded her arms, but said nothing.

“Fuckin’ hell, Mag,” Bob said, exasperated. “This whole trial we tried to getcha to shut up, and now that we finally need ya to talk, yer not even gonna say a word?”

“It’s really weird, huh,” Jordana commented. “There’s no doubting the evidence though. Magalie obviously tried to make herself look suspicious, probably so that we’d vote incorrectly. I assume she left the surgical mask in the trash can herself so that we’d suspect her, for instance.”

“Wow,” Typhaine said, impressed. “So that was a trap!”

“Yeah,” Jordana said. “And attacking Ryoji… it was the same thing, wasn’t it? It gives her an alibi, but only if you look at the case superficially. It’s too big, too obvious. Like she _wanted_ to be found out.”

Once more, Magalie remained silent. Gwenn was crying again.

“Please, say something,” they begged. “If this is all true and I’m really going to die… don’t I deserve to know the truth?”

That seemed to hit a nerve. Magalie shivered violently, before catching herself.

“Fine, I’ll talk – but only to refute your stupid claims.”

Bob’s eyes shot wide.

“Yer gonna keep fightin’?” They shouted in bewilderment. “How the fuck- how stubborn can ya get?”

“What is going on here?” Jordana asked, sounding almost fascinated.

“It’s not the end,” Magalie warned. “I still haven’t accepted any of your deductions, and it’s not in my nature to give up. I’ll show you how wrong you are, and that there can only be one conclusion to this case.”

Ryoji closed his eyes.

_I should have seen this coming._

“Fine,” he replied, attempting to steel himself. “If you think you can challenge our deductions, then we’ll be ready. Say whatever you have to say.”


	67. Class Trial 5 - Dust Edition

“It’s honestly not that difficult to challenge your claims,” Magalie began, like a teacher about to scold a lazy student. “Your case might appear solid at first glance, but look closely and the whole argument falls apart.”

“Hit us,” Jordana replied neutrally. “We’re waiting.”

“You’re saying that Florian made an alliance with me, that he agreed to shed his blood, that he went through the sewers while drunk and weakened, that he came out with a mallet and swung Typhaine on the head, all of that for the sake of a plan which could have very easily failed? Consider this: what if Gwenn had moved the logs too soon? What if they had forgotten about them entirely? What if the gas container had toppled in the wrong direction, and the liquid hadn’t even reached the lighter? What if the lighter ran out of fuel too quickly?”

“That… sure makes a lot of maybes” Typhaine admitted uneasily. “Ah… my head hurts. I’m starting to have doubts again!”

“No need,” Bob said confidently. “It’s Flo we’re talkin ‘bout here. I dun’t wanna speak ill of the dead, but ya gotta tell the hard truth sum’times. He prolly didn’t think ‘bout the whole thing too much. He was always super confident in his ideas, even when they were kinda dumb.”

Gwenn shot him an icy glare.

“He was planning to give his life for this plan,” Magalie objected coldly. “Or so you claim, at any rate. Even if he was a relatively careless person, don’t you think he would have made an exception in this specific case? And what about _me?_ Because apparently I’m a part of this farce, or so you would have us believe. You seriously think I would have agreed to being his accomplice if I didn’t think our chances of success were a little higher than that?”

Ryoji frowned.

_She does have a point. Now that it’s laid out in front of me like that, it suddenly doesn’t seem all that likely anymore._

Ryoji looked up, searching for Jordana’s gaze. She shook her head.

_But we can’t give up here. I should be more confident in our reasoning – it’s not going to fall apart after so much work!_

“Our reasoning isn’t weak,” he said cautiously. “I mean, probably. I think we’re just missing something.”

“Yeah, le’s find out!” Bob said passionately.

“No, no, no,” Gwenn whispered. “Let it rest. Please. I don’t want to hear anymore.”

“I’m sorry Gwenn,” Typhaine said softly. “It’s not against you. I...”

She extended a hand forward, as if she wanted to caress their cheek, but they were too far and didn’t seem to notice.

“Let’s finish this,” Jordana decided. “I don’t doubt the case we’ve built together, but we seem to be missing something. The question that we need to answer is the following: why would Florian engage in such a risky plan?”

“Killin’ sum’one durin’ the day is super risky,” Bob admitted.

“Not just during the day, but during the investigation period,” Ryoji corrected.

“I don’t know if he even had a choice,” Jordana pondered. “He probably found Rebecca’s body at the same time as us this morning. As we’ve said before, her actions threw a wrench into his plans. He had no way to predict what she would do, but he needed to act fast.”

“Why would he?” Magalie asked bluntly. “He could wait until the trial was over. He knew Gwenn wasn’t the culprit, so it didn’t change anything for him.”

“Uh, but we’re pretty sure yer the culprit for that one,” Bob objected, raising his eyebrows. “He wouldn’t wanna lose his accomplice, would he?”

“Better to lose an accomplice than to throw himself carelessly in a dangerous plan that threatened his life.”

“Unless he couldn’t even afford that,” Ryoji suddenly understood.

“What dja mean?” Bob asked.

“We still haven’t solved Rebecca’s murder, have we? What if Florian was the culprit all along?”

“No,” Gwenn groaned. “Fucking hell no. How long do you plan to drag his name in the mud like this?”

“But it’d make sense!” Ryoji protested. “We already know he and Magalie were working together, and we also figured out that the two crimes were related. If Florian is the culprit, then it would explain why he had to rush his plan before he could be executed!”

Gwenn has pressed their hands against their ears, attempting to block all upcoming sounds. Ryoji felt his heart tightening at the sight.

_We’re torturing them. This has to end quick._

“So all we have to do is prove that Florian is the culprit behind Rebecca’s murder,” Jordana summarized.

“That’s not going to happen,” Magalie replied with a smile. “It was me.”

“No it wasn’t,” Bob said, clearly annoyed.

“Can you prove it wasn’t me? I can even explain how it happened. On the first day after Ferdinand’s trial, I was so upset that I couldn’t sleep. Does that sound so hard to believe? I was very angry, in my head I blamed you all for Ferdinand’s death – so naturally I began to think about murder. I went to investigate the new areas that had opened up in the research facility, hoping that I would find something of value. That’s when I found the poison crate, and well, even though I didn’t have a plan yet, I thought it couldn’t hurt to steal one, right? It turned out to be useful. Naturally, I came up with the idea of mixing it with honey so it would stick to the rope, and I insisted in applying it myself.”

“That’s all lies,” Jordana accused. “Just… a bunch of lies.”

“Can you prove it?”

“No, but that’s not the point-”

“Jordana,” Gwenn said in a raspy voice. “Please.”

Jordana bit her lip.

“What is it?”

“I don’t… please. Don’t try to push Florian into this. Florian wouldn’t… he...”

They seemed to have run out of tears, but their face betrayed nothing but misery.

“Gwenn, I’m sorry, but-”

“Don’t be sorry,” Gwenn wailed. “Just stop accusing Florian. Please! It’s enough. He never had anybody to defend himself, but I don’t want to give up on him, even now that he’s dead. He was a good man really, he just didn’t know how to express his affection properly. But he loved all of us dearly! He wouldn’t kill anyone, he wouldn’t even consider it.”

Ryoji was about to speak, but he realized that it was pointless.

 _Gwenn can’t think properly anymore. They think_ _we’re targeting Florian because we didn’t like him_ _. How do I_ _convince them_ _that it’s not our intention?_

“Gwenn, that’s not the issue,” Typhaine said softly. “We all know Florian only had good intentions. He didn’t kill someone for the sake of hatred, but he sacrificed himself to save you. And the poison wasn’t meant to kill anyone either, was it? It was to make sure everything would go according to plan. He was probably the one who came up with the idea, because he cared about you the most. Actually, I think he might have even brewed the poison himself, to tell you the truth.”

Gwenn looked very confused, and they weren’t the only one.

“What duzzat mean?” Bob asked.

“Florian brewed the poison himself?” Jordana asked. “How?”

“I deduced it when Ryoji said the honey smelled of nettles,” Typhaine explained. “Florian was the ultimate florist. Did you know that most of the flowers that people use for house decorations are actually very toxic? That’s something he taught me one day.”

“So you’re saying that he took advantage of that?” Ryoji asked in disbelief.

“I think so, yes. He could have mixed a variety of toxic plants; after all, there are plenty growing around the place by now. It’s obvious he knew a lot about plants and their properties – and that way, he could be sure that the toxic mixture he chose would have the right effect.”

“So there never was any poison,” Jordana whispered. “He simply made it himself.”

“That’s nothing but conjecture,” Magalie retorted. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“It’s not conjecture,” Ryoji argued. “We found the glass he used to brew his mixture in the kitchen, didn’t we?”

“We did,” Typhaine agreed. “It smelled of perfume. I wondered why at the time.”

“So assuming you two are right, that leaves us with only two potential culprits,” Jordana concluded firmly. “Either Gwenn or Florian, because I don’t think anyone else among us would know enough about plants to brew a toxic mixture such as this one – but since Gwenn was the intended target, that leaves only one possibility. Florian has to be the culprit behind Rebecca’s murder, though it was never his intention. It explains why his plan B involved taking so many risks: he was already a dead man walking by that point. He had nothing to lose, and all to gain.”

Magalie closed her eyes. She mumbled something to herself that nobody could pick up. She then raised her hands in front of her face as if she were going to punch someone. When she opened her eyes again, they bore the weight of her defeat, and the disgust she bore for herself.

“You’re fucking impossible,” she said in aversion, her voice shaking. “Do you realize what you’ve done?”

“Huh?” Bob said. “Whatcha accusin’ us of now? Yer the one who murdered-”

“Gwenn is going to die, and it’s all your fault!” She yelled. “Don’t you understand? This is what I was trying to prevent!”

“What?” Gwenn whispered in confusion. “Huh?”

“That’s a lie,” Jordana said, frowning.

“And besides, Gwenn’s not going to die, are they?” Ryoji asked with a weak chuckle. “Their action might have triggered the trap that ultimately killed Florian, but now we know that it was actually a suicide. So there should be no reason to execute them, right?”

Ryoji heard a sigh. Monoblade looked defeated.

“You’re wrong kiddo. The rules are strict on that point: Gwenn might have never intended to kill anyone, they count as the culprit regardless.”

“What?” Ryoji shouted. “That makes no sense!”

“I know!” Monoblade replied in frustration. “But the rules don’t care about intentions. The only way to become the culprit is to terminate the life of another subject – even if you’re triggering a trap made by someone else. As long as you’re not asleep while you’re doing it, it counts.”

“But… you’re the one who makes the rules,” Typhaine reasoned. “If you don’t like this outcome, why don’t you just change the rules?”

“How many times do I need to tell you all?” (The little robot was flailing his arms angrily). “I’m no longer in control! I can’t change the rules.”

“Or what?” Bob asked. “Ya’ll die?”

“Probably. Not like it would change anything if I rebelled, you know? I’m being watched too.”

“Fine,” Gwenn said, trying to sound firm. “We can’t vote for Florian, but we can vote for Magalie, right? She was definitely an accomplice.”

“That can’t work either,” Jordana realized. “This rule has been revoked.”

“What?”

“It has,” Monoblade agreed. “Since the previous trial, remember?”

“But I thought it was because of the aquarium motive,” Ryoji said in a hollow voice. “It’s not back…?”

“It’s not, because the virus motive works just like the aquarium motive.”

“So in other words,” Jordana began very carefully, “unless we vote for Gwenn at the end of this trial, we’ll all die?”

Monoblade remained silent. Gwenn paled.

“Did… did Florian know?” They asked in a whisper.

“I can’t answer that,” Monoblade replied carefully. “But I can say that the culprit approached me before the murders, and that I explained all the rules to them then.”

“Tha’s the same fuckin’ thing!” Bob exploded. “So the bastard knew? He wanted us all to die!”

Ryoji’s heart was racing.

_It can’t be. There has to be a mistake somewhere. We can’t vote for someone who’s innocent! How do we get out of this one?_

_Would Lisa know?_

“What the hell did you do?” Jordana asked Magalie, her face contorted with rage.

Magalie closed her eyes.

“Say something,” Typhaine said neutrally. “Is this... love?” She asked a little more softly. “I know that me too, I did something very stupid and dangerous for the sake of love. If that’s your reason, I guess I could maybe understand.”

Magalie giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. Her eyes were watering, and she didn’t seem capable of stopping herself. Earlier when Gwenn had found themselves in the same predicament, Ryoji had felt sad – but her laugh only evoked a bitter feeling.

“Aaah, Typhaine,” she said with genuine delight. “I’m sorry I treated you so harshly, you didn’t deserve that. Still, it’s true that you _are_ gullible. As much as I’d want to, I can’t really take that back – it’d just be another lie.”

Typhaine narrowed her eyes.

“What do you mean?” She asked bluntly.

“What I mean is that I’d never bloody my hands for something as silly as love.”

“You did before,” Jordana reminded her. “Didn’t you sacrifice yourself for us? That’s why you shot Aphrodite.”

That seemed to catch her off-guard.

“That was the old me,” Magalie replied hastily. “I was ignorant and stupid, just like the rest of you sorry lot. I changed.”

“We noticed,” Bob said in clear annoyance. “So will ya spit it out already?”

“Why would you want us dead?” Ryoji asked, sounding pained. “What could possibly lead you this far? You opened your own veins for this,” he said in clear disgust. “You cut me twice. You killed Hope!”

“You killed Florian, although indirectly,” Jordana added flatly. “His plan needed an accomplice, it wouldn’t have worked without you. And of course, Rebecca’s death is your fault too.”

“You’re a monster,” Gwenn cried, their body shaking.

“Don’t blame me,” Magalie countered. “You’re the only one I tried to actually save.”

“But _why?”_ Ryoji insisted. “Florian’s motive makes sense, but what about you? If it wasn’t for love, why would you sacrifice everyone _including yourself,_ only to allow Gwenn to escape from this killing game?”

Magalie sighed, and brushed her hair from her face. For a while she seemed defeated, but then she caught herself. It looked like she was having an inner debate with herself.

“I think it’s going to be a little hard to explain, but… I’ll try. Maybe we can still fix this situation after all.”

She gazed at the ceiling with a weary expression, as if she were casting a silent prayer, then shifted her attention back to the group.

“I know it may be hard to believe, but these murders weren’t a heinous act on my part. I don’t hate, and have never hated any of you.”

“Bullshit!” Bob yelled in rage. “If ya dun’t hate us, then ya dun’t fuckin’ kill us!”

She looked at him with a very sad expression.

“But Bob, I had no choice. The safety of the entire world is at stake.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I once read a fangan where a chapter ended with a massive plot twist, and the ending notes just said something like "lol, wtf", and that's the only thing I want to write when I end my chapters on a cliffhanger from now on


	68. Class Trial 5 - Tornado Edition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! This chapter was veeeeery hard to write, I struggled quite a lot, which is why it took me a while to publish it. I hope you guys enjoy it despite the wait. (Also can you tell I'm running out of ideas for these weather-inspired titles?)

Ryoji rubbed his eyes. He had rarely felt so tired. His body felt like it weighed a ton, even the prospect of lifting his arms was exhausting. The grass underneath his feet looked warm and soft, like a fluffy carpet or a squishy pillow. It seemed to be calling him. He wanted nothing more than to lie down and forget about everything else.

“What are you saying?” He forced himself to ask, resting his head on his hands.

“It’s a lie again!” Typhaine accused. “There’s no way the safety of the _entire world_ was at stake. It’s obvious!”

Magalie smiled, as if this were some kind of private joke to her.

“Are you sure about that?” She asked calmly. “We’ve been sheltered from the rest of the world for so long, it could have fallen apart for all you know.”

“What’s that nonsense again? If you have nothing useful to say, be quiet,” Jordana said in disgust. “Why are we even listening to you? We should just vote already.”

“Don’t vote yet,” Magalie cut in hastily. “Look, I know you all hate me now, and for good reasons. If I explained my motivations to you now, I doubt you would believe me.”

She placed both hands on her podium and leaned forward.

“But if the explanation came from Florian, would you be willing to listen?”

Gwenn raised their head right away.

“Florian? I… I’m allowed to see Florian again?”

“There’s a video,” Magalie explained gently, as if she were talking to a child. “Florian thought you deserved to know the truth, so he recorded it in advance. We asked Monoblade for the right to play the footage at the end of the trial, so he should have it with him.”

“I do,” Monoblade confirmed.

“And where would you play it?” Jordana asked, eyebrows raised. “There are no screens here.”

“Don’t let appearances deceive you,” the robot corrected. “The screen is merely concealed within the base of my throne.”

He pressed a little button placed on his arm-rest, and a thin wooden panel slid to the right at the base of his throne, revealing a medium-sized TV screen.

“I know this is much smaller than what you kids have been used to,” Monoblade said almost apologetically. “But since there are so few of you by now, I figured it was okay.”

“I really couldn’t care less,” Jordana said flatly.

“Do we even wanna know wha’s on the vid?” Bob asked uncertainly.

All eyes fell on Gwenn.

“Yeah,” they said wearily. “I want to hear his voice one more time. Even if it’s for...”

They didn’t finish their sentence.

“Guess we’re watching then,” Jordana said as she pushed her wheelchair toward the screen. “I’ll admit I’m curious.”

“I’m scared,” Typhaine confessed.

“Come sit on my knees,” Jordana offered, earning a nod and a quick smile from the shorter woman.

Ryoji stood behind them, feeling a twist in his stomach. What could have possibly compelled Florian to give up his own life and betray everyone his friends? A few answers came to Ryoji’s mind, each more terrifying than the last. He felt Bob leaning against him, grabbing his arm almost compulsively.

“It’s okay Ryo, I’m ‘ere,” Bob whispered, though he seemed in need of reassurance as much as his boyfriend.

“I’ll start the video,” Monoblade warned. “Give me a moment… there.”

The screen lit up, and Florian appeared. It was enough to make Ryoji’s eyes water. He felt like the horrible smell of burning flesh was clogging his nostrils once more. Seeing his dead friend on the screen reminded him exactly of what loss truly meant.

 _This is going to be_ _difficult._

Florian was sitting on a chair in front of a white wall. There wasn’t much in terms of furniture, but Ryoji recognized the edge of the tool rack from the torture room.

 _Why there…? Oh right. Sound proofing._ _He wouldn’t want us to hear about his plan too soon, would he?_

To Ryoji’s surprise, Florian looked rather serene. He gazed at the camera almost shyly, as if he were somehow embarrassed to be seen by all his classmates at once. He didn’t look at all like a man about to commit suicide.

_What on earth happened to him?_

“Hi,” Florian began awkwardly. “If you’re watching this footage, it means I can’t explain my motivations myself… because I died.”

He scratched the back of his head, visibly confused.

“It feels weird to start with that. Such a cliché… but true nonetheless. I guess it feels even weirder for you guys. Good heavens, you must really hate me by now, don’t you? I have no doubt my plan will be a success; it’s simply flawless. Which means you’re all beginning to realize that your lives have come to an end.”

Ryoji let out a hushed up scream. He felt like he had been punched in the stomach. Typhaine flinched, Ryoji sensed Bob’s body shivering against his own. Gwenn seemed to be holding their breath.

_He… doesn’t care?_

It had been one thing to guess Florian’s plan during the trial, but to hear him saying it so casually, without even an ounce of remorse, evoked a different feeling entirely. Ryoji wondered if he wasn’t going to throw up.

“I will try to explain my motivations,” Florian continued. “I’m not sure how well you will all take it. Magalie thinks I shouldn’t say anything, she believes it will only serve to hurt you more. Maybe she’s right, honestly I’m not sure. I feel like I owe you the truth still. After all, though it might be hard to believe, I acted with your best interests in mind.”

Bob couldn’t stop himself.

“He’s gone crazy,” he muttered, before being quickly shushed by Gwenn.

“It all started with a little book,” Florian explained. “It was hidden within the coffin that supposedly held the corpse of Roberta’s foster mother. When I first found it, I thought it was merely another of our kidnappers’ trap, probably a murder motive in disguise. I kept it nevertheless. Curiosity had the better of me, as you might guess.”

He allowed himself a brief pause.

“As it turns out, it wasn’t a book, but a diary. Roberta’s diary, to be more specific. Strange, right? Stranger still, Monoblade denied having any involvements with the diary, so it must have been hidden here by Roberta herself at some point. I have no idea why she had the strange idea of hiding it in a coffin of all places, nor what she did with the actual body. The diary does not say, unfortunately – I can only assume Roberta was really terrified of the prospect of someone reading its content, and thus sought to hide it in the last place people would come to find it. I was curious, so I brought the diary to my room, and read it in one night. The secrets of the killing game were revealed to me.”

There were several simultaneous gasps, and Florian smiled nervously in the video, having most likely predicted the effect that his words were going to have on his audience. Ryoji had begun to shake in fear.

“It should be no surprise. Roberta spent part of her life here, in what would later become the killing game grounds. She was already at the heart of the story before it even began.”

Florian removed his hat.

“The truth isn’t pretty. Lucien warned us that the government wanted us dead, and I always wondered why. What could we have possibly done to deserve this? Well, as it turns out, it’s not us… or more precisely, it’s not us _specifically_. The government is actually after the _Grand Talent University_ itself, because as I’ve recently learned, the GTU is a criminal organization. Well, that’s a bit of an understatement actually,” he reflected. “Saying ‘the GTU is run by actual terrorists’ would be closer to the truth, but I don’t even know if that’s enough to make you guys understand. Because the GTU’s mere _existence_ is actually a threat to the entire planet.”

Ryoji rubbed his temples. His fingers were sweaty.

“Wait, can we… play that part again? I’m not sure I got that.”

Monoblade obeyed without a word, and Ryoji heard the exerpt again – but it didn’t make any more sense the second time.

 _What on earth is he saying?_ _He’s making it sound like our college is run by cartoon super-villains. Can we really believe that? Has he lost it?_

“I know it sounds hard to believe,” Florian added, as if he had somehow heard Ryoji’s thoughts. “It probably sounds absurd to all of you. But think about it: we’ve all visited the virus room on the facility’s 3rd floor, haven’t we? We know those viruses were created in research labs by the GTU’s lead scientists. And Aphrodite told us the true story behind the Furantur, and how it ‘accidentally’ left the research labs and infected the populations ten years ago. Why did we never ask ourselves: why would the GTU need to create viruses of all things?”

Ryoji winced.

_I know where this is going._

“The answer was contained in Roberta’s diary. It’s a classic tale of greed: the GTU’s big heads sought to scare the world with a deadly plague, so that they’d look like heroes a few months later when they ‘miraculously’ found a cure. Who cares if millions of people die in the process, after all? _L’argent sale ça n’existe pas.”_

Ryoji could tell that Florian was getting angry by this point. It was subtle, but his face looked a little tense, betraying a deeper form of anger, deeply repressed and hidden.

“We all know how that turned out,” Florian continued. “The plague was so brutal and scary that the town was completely wiped out, and that was the end of the story. The GTU didn’t quite get what they wanted, but did that stop them from trying again? I’ll let you guess. And that’s, surprisingly enough, when the 6th virus file comes into play.”

Ryoji bit his tongue, and the taste of blood flooded his sensations. He coughed, trying to be quiet so that he wouldn’t cover the sound of Florian’s voice.

_I had honestly forgotten about this one, and now I’m even more scared._

“When Ryoji and I investigated the virus room for the first time, we noticed that the 6th virus file had been stolen,” Florian explained placidly. “Which is strange, considering none of us ever got infected with that 6th virus – it seems like it was never used at all. However, I was deeply surprised when Roberta mentioned it in her diary. I had almost forgotten about it by that point. It was apparently the GTU’s latest project: a virus just deadly enough to be a global concern, but not enough to reproduce the tragedy of Lorient.”

Florian sighed.

“It’s called covid-19.”

Ryoji gagged. He could hear Bob whispering “son of a bitch” as his body shook with rage.

_That’s… it can’t be. There’s no way any of this makes any sense. My school, my teachers, they… it’s all their fault? All the people who died from this pandemic, it’s all on them?_

“Once again, I know it’s very hard to believe,” Florian repeated. “But Monoblade confirmed the contents of the diary, and he even showed me the 6th virus file. I have it here,” he said as he agitated an ordinary-looking sheet of paper. “Monoblade should have it too.”

Ryoji briefly looked up. The file was resting on the little robot’s knees. He gulped, before shifting his attention back toward the screen.

“Do I need to say more? Now you know what kind of men run our university. Or used to, at any rate. You must also understand why they had to be stopped; a crime on such a global scale is yet unheard of. I don’t know how the french government ended up finding out, but they took action right away. And that’s when the killing games come into play, of course. They stole the idea from Monoblade, and took over his kidnapping plan, but he can explain that part better than me. We used to wonder why rescue never came for us… now we know. And it’s not just us! Every member of the GTU is suffering the same fate. There are being held hostage, just like us, and forced to kill each other for entertainment. Every teacher, every student, they’re all going to die one by one, and the rest of the country is going to watch.”

By this point, Ryoji was feeling nauseous. Monoblade had mentioned some other killing games at the beginning of the trial – it gave credence to Florian’s claims. Were all these people forced to attend trials too?

_But if it’s meant to destroy us all, then-_

“You’ve probably realized what this means already,” Florian said flatly. “It’s called a killing game, but it’s never been one. It has been nothing but a lengthy, agonizing execution, and none of us are meant to escape from it. In other words, the game is rigged. The GTU has to be thoroughly crushed, and that means no exceptions. No winners. We might be innocent, but it doesn’t seem like we have any chances of being spared.”

Florian didn’t seem to believe in his own words – though his voice carried the tone of resignation, he didn’t look like a man who had lost all hope.

“By the way, do you know why we’re on TV?” He continued, unperturbed. “It’s to teach the rest of the country to hate us. Because the GTU has always been protected by its insane popularity, you can only destroy it by destroying its popularity with it. That’s why the government couldn’t just tie us all to a stake and set it on fire. We have to kill each other, we need to do it ourselves so we can look like the bad guys, like we’re responsible for our own demise. The broadcast is naturally being edited to accentuate that impression. Some parts are being cut out – specifically the parts that would allow the public to empathize with us. I think the motives are not made public for instance. We’re meant to look like bloodthirsty maniacs and backstabbers. It’s a big lie of course, but people can only believe in what they see, can’t they? Think about it: if you only show them the moments when we’ve been arguing, fighting, the petty grudges we’ve held against one another, it paints a rather ugly portrait indeed. With the right amount of cheating, even Ferdinand’s sacrifice may look like an act of greed,” he concluded, clearly repulsed by his own words.

Ryoji wanted to throw up.

_So even if we survive, we’ll be remembered as insane murderers? No one knows what really happened to us, and no one would believe the real story? How could any of this be true?_

“As you can imagine, it was a lot to take in,” Florian said casually. “A truth so depressing, it seems to have crushed out every little fragment of hope I had left. But...”

He turned to face the camera and smiled. Ryoji’s heart skipped a beat.

_Those eyes!_

Ryoji’s chest was hurting – his empathetic abilities were hitting him with full-force. It was no longer fear, anger or even sadness that motivated Florian in these last minutes of recording, but pure love; a passion so strong and intense it could destroy everything on its path.

_For how long…_

_Florian’s been hiding all of this for days, and I never even noticed anything. How could I be so blind?_

“I realized there was one last thing I could do before I died,” Florian said softly. “To be honest, I’m not sure it’s going to work, but I knew I had to try. If this game is meant to punish us, so be it. I won’t fight. If the GTU has to be destroyed, I’ll accept my fate, no matter how unfair it may be. I think I’m just tired of fighting. To be completely honest, part of me thinks we deserve to die.”

Florian shook his head.

“But there is one among us who doesn’t. You already know who I’m talking about. Gwenn Fourneret, the ultimate… nothing. Admitted to the GTU by money alone, and not even theirs. They’re not really a part of this story, are they? And as such, if anyone has a chance to escape… no, a _right_ to escape from this horror show, it’s them. It cannot be anyone else.”

Gwenn was shaking again.

“No,” they whispered miserably. “No, no no...”

“That’s my motive,” Florian said, beaming radiantly. “I will do it Gwenn, I promise,” he added with passion. “I will save your life! I know it’s a cruel fate, but I beg you to not hate me for this. None of us here could survive anyway, that’s why it has to be you. The only one who deserves mercy, who needs not be swiped away by the course of history. I...”

Florian’s speech had gained momentum, he grew more enthusiastic with each word.

“I am so proud of you,” he concluded as his eyes began to water.

The footage suddenly ended, and the screen faded to black.

“Come back!” Gwenn screamed desperately. “Don’t… don’t leave me like this! What does it mean? What does it all mean?”

They were pulling at their own hair, screeching in pain and misery. Ryoji took a step forward and grabbed their hand. They threw themselves at him and began to sob loudly. Ryoji himself felt like he was about to faint.

“Son of a bitch,” Bob muttered in rage. “Son of a fuckin’ bitch!”

“I can’t believe this,” Typhaine sniveled. “I can’t believe any of this!”

“Florian has lost it,” Jordana said dryly. “This story is simply absurd. There’s no way there’s any truth to it.”

“I expected this kind of reaction,” Magalie admitted. “That’s why I brought the diary with me.”

She opened her vest and produced the little black notebook, which Jordana snatched from her hands right away, perusing it furiously.

“This has to be a fake,” she spat. “It’s just another of those stupid murder motives.”

“It’s not a fake. You can trust Monoblade on that.”

“Of course I will,” Jordana said with disdain. “I’ll believe the insane psychopath which has been trying to kill us for a month!”

“Fine, don’t trust him. Trust me instead,” Magalie challenged.

Jordana looked offended.

 _“_ _You?_ After everything you’ve pulled? Are you insane?”

“Be logical,” the other woman snapped. “I might be a monster, but I’m still the ultimate medieval historian. If there’s one person among us who can assert the validity of a historical source, it’s me! You think I just opened the book and trusted everything it said? No. I proceeded with caution. I read it in full, more than once. I analyzed the writing style, and I compared the handwriting to other notes written by Roberta that were kept in the elevator room. I took into account what little I knew of her personality, and Florian helped me by supplying his testimony. After all, he’s the one who knew her best, right?”

“But how would Roberta know all of this stuff?” Jordana asked in frustration. “And if she did, why did she never tell us anything?”

“Because she worked as a spy for the government. Unlike all of us, she was actually _willing_ to participate in the killing game. She was supposed to commit the first murder and be executed for it, that was her main task. Obviously she wouldn’t tell us what she knew in those circumstances.”

“How do we know yer not lyin’ to us?” Bob snarled.

“Why would I do that?” Magalie asked, exasperated. “After all of _this_ , what could I possibly wish to hide? Besides, think about it for a bit. Don’t we have proof that what Florian just taught you all is the truth?”

“Proof?” Typhaine repeated, seemingly in pain. “How can we prove something so crazy?”

“Yer jus’ fuckin with us again!” Bob shouted in rage.

Jordana flinched. She seemed to have understood something.

 _What is Magalie talking about?_ Ryoji pondered. _How could we- oh._

“The war,” he realized. “That’s what you’re talking about, right?”

Magalie nodded.

“The GTU is responsible for several crimes against humanity – but after all of this, so is the french government. Turns out killing games aren’t exactly popular in foreign countries.”

“Oh no they’re not,” Monoblade said with a hint of cheer in his voice, as if he were somehow proud to have caused such a disaster. “That’s why we’ve suddenly been attacked by a bunch of difference states at once! But our government has strong alliances too, you know? I don’t know how long it’ll last, but so far it looks like we’re winning. Great news, right?”

“There’s nothing great about it,” Typhaine cried.

She looked heavily distraught. She walked toward Magalie and brutally grabbed the edges of her vest, pulling the other woman close to her.

“Do you really believe in all of that?” She asked in anguish. “That we’re all going to die, no matter what we do? Is that why you helped Florian with his plan? Was it just a mercy kill?”

Her words sent a shiver down Ryoji’s spine. He was still keeping Gwenn close to himself, trying to ease them by gently stroking their hair, but suddenly he felt like he was shoved very far away from his own body, and forced to float in mid-air, deprived of any sensations.

Magalie’s face hardened.

“It wasn’t mercy. It was the only sensible decision I could take. Each day we spend together is just another foolish attempt to run away from the inevitable. Gwenn being the only one who has a chance to get away from all of this, I was ready to sacrifice _anything_ in order to make it happen.”

Typhaine flinched.

“Anything?”

“That includes my life, and yours.”

“Earlier you told Bob the entire world was at stake,” Jordana reminded her. “I still don’t understand what that means. Did you just lie to buy some time?”

“Not really. As Monoblade said, it looks like we’re winning the war, but… if all those killing games came to an end, so should the war. So in a way, the world really _is_ at stake, no?”

“Tha’s major fuckin’ bullshit,” Bob said with clear disgust seeping from his tone. “Are ya proud o’ yerself, spoutin’ all this political shit just to impress us? Ya killed Flo and ya wanted to bury us too, all cuz ya hate us! No matter how much ya try to hide it with fancy words, it’s the only truth.

Magalie looked hurt.

“That’s not true. If there’s anyone I hate here, it’s myself, though that’s besides the point. I know I’ve been acting like a major bitch for the last few days, but that’s just because I hoped it would make things easier.”

“Easier?” Ryoji croaked. “How would this make it easier for anybody? You’ve hurt my feelings so many times,” he whimpered. “You’ve hurt everyone here!”

“You’re saying it was all an act?” Typhaine asked, dumbfounded. “You never meant any of those awful things that you said?”

“You wanted us to hate you,” Jordana suddenly realized. “Because you wanted us to vote incorrectly. You’d hope we’d rush the wrong verdict in the hope of getting rid of you.”

Magalie nodded.

“That’s the truth. That’s also why I left my own bloody surgical mask at the crime scene, to make myself look suspicious. It was Florian’s idea actually.”

Jordana looked frustrated.

“You’ve completely been manipulating us. It was all a big show, and we fell for it.”

Gwenn was whispering something, but Ryoji could barely catch any of it. “Florian” and “Lied” were recurring words.

“Do you understand now?” Magalie asked with a smile that was almost shy. “I might have lied a lot, but I acted in your best interests. Because in the end, I love you a-”

“Will ya fuckin’ SHUT UP?” Bob yelled in fury. “How DARE-”

It was at this moment that he finally snapped. He threw himself at Magalie, throwing her to the ground as he attempted to punch her in the face several times. She raised her elbows to protect her face, but she seemed unable to fight back. Typhaine tried to restrain Bob but was kicked in the nose and fell on her butt. For a while, Ryoji stood in place, frozen in terror.

Someone yelled “stop!”, and it took him a moment to realize it was Gwenn.

“Stop it,” Gwenn begged. “Please… I don’t want to see this.”

And Bob stopped himself. Breathing slowly, he got back to his feet. His face was red and sweaty. Magalie remained sat on the floor – her nose was broken, and she seemed to have bit her tongue.

“Ya fuckin’ idiot,” Bob spat, his voice breaking. “How can ya still act like everythin’s fine? How fuckin’ dare ya tryin’ to make this look okay?”

“I knew you wouldn’t understand,” she replied flatly as she stood back up. “It’s fine.”

“Ya dun’t even regret what ya did, huh?”

“Why would I? What else was there to do?”

“Talk to us!” Bob yelled. “Tha’s what ya shoulda done!”

“Talk…? After your reaction just now, I’m glad I never did.”

“Ya dun’t fuckin’ understand. How can ya not understand? How couldja lose yerself so bad?”

“What are you trying to say, Bob?” She asked in frustration.

“That yer ain’t as smart as ya think. Ya read one book and one file, and suddenly ya think ya understand the big world and what makes it spins? Tha’s a load o’ _garbage!_ And becuz of ya, two people have _died,_ and a third one will join ‘em soon.”

“But it doesn’t matter-”

“Of course it fuckin’ matters! If ya wanna give up on life then it’s yer business, but dun’t fuckin’ rope us into it!”

He grabbed her by the shoulders and shoved her backwards.

“Ya tried t’make me believe I had murdered sum’one. Ya used my own insanity against me! Ya wanted me to hang! And all the while ya blame the mastermind and the government? But all along it’s been ya, all of ya, and no one else!”

He seemed to be struggling to contain himself.

“Yer...”

It seemed like the word was stuck between his lips.

“...unforgivable,” he concluded, dropping her as he stepped away.

Magalie looked lost. As if she had encountered an anomaly after retaining control of the conversation for hours.

“If I died, would it ease your pain a little?” She asked softly.

Bob was stunned into silence. Jordana closed her eyes, and Typhaine shivered. Magalie turned around to face Monoblade.

“I understand that according to the rules, Gwenn is the only one who counts as the culprit, even though they never intended to kill anyone. But we all know this was my doing all along. Isn’t there a clause that allows me to become the culprit instead of them, if I choose to take their place?”

“Don’t,” Ryoji whispered. “You can’t-”

“Let her do it,” Jordana said coldly. “She deserves it.”

But Monoblade shook his head.

“No, there isn’t. Only the true culprit can be executed in this trial.”

That seemed to anger Magalie greatly.

“Oh, come on!” She shouted. “We all know it doesn’t change anything in the end. Can’t you just drop a bomb on this field and end it all for good? What’s the point in extending our suffering like that? Haven’t we had enough by now?”

“I can’t do what you’re asking of me.”

Magalie placed her hands against the sides of her face, almost compulsively.

“Why?” She asked, beginning to crack under the pressure. “Why wouldn’t you agree? You want us to die, so why wouldn’t you-”

“I don’t want any more deaths,” Monoblade said flatly. “I’m not going to execute you if the rules don’t force me too. I won’t execute _anyone_ unless I’m forced to.”

Magalie laughed.

“How brave. How noble! But your gracious mercy doesn’t extend to Gwenn, I bet? Because at the end of the day, your pathetic life matters to you more than any of us.”

“I still haven’t revealed who the culprit was,” Monoblade reminded her calmly. “And there still hasn’t been a vote.”

“We all fucking know who the culprit is. I confessed.”

She turned around to face the others.

“Guys. Now that you know the full story, you realize what this means, right? We don’t have to vote where the rules point us. We can choose to-”

“Shut up!” Bob commanded. “Ya fuckin’ never know when to stop, do ya? I ain’t sacrificin’ myself for this shit.”

“But if we vote for Gwenn, they’re going to die,” Typhaine cried. “I don’t want them to die!”

“Do you want to take their place?” Jordana asked flatly. “Don’t blame yourself for this, Typh’. You’re not responsible for what happened, none of this is your fault.”

Ryoji was still hugging Gwenn. At this point it felt like he was a drowning man hanging on to a life preserver. He briefly wondered if Gwenn felt the same. They weren’t saying anything; in fact, they weren’t even crying anymore.

“What will you do Ryoji?” Typhaine asked weakly. “Who will you vote for?”

“I...”

His throat was dry.

“I will abstain, I think. Am I allowed to do that?” He asked Monoblade.

“If it’s you, then it might be okay,” the robot reflected.

_I still don’t understand what that means._

“I...”

Typhaine still seemed uncertain. She was eyeing Gwenn fearfully.

“Typhaine,” Magalie said hastily. “You know you can vote for me, right? You were ready to sacrifice yourself for Lucien once. But isn’t this a much nobler cause? Please, we can still win this!”

“Shut yer trap!” Bob shouted indignantly. “Ya have no rights to manipulate her like that!”

“Don’t listen to her Typh’,” Jordana advised. “She’s not making sense, it’s nothing but survivor guilt.”

“But...”

Typhaine really looked lost.

“It feels like I’m murdering Gwenn,” she wailed. “I don’t want to do that. They didn’t do anything wrong!”

“You’re not going to murder anyone,” Monoblade said flatly. “It’s going to be me.”

“Shut up ya too,” Bob snarled. “After all the messed up shit ya pulled, ya have no rights to act all kind around us. We’re never gonna forgive ya.”

Gwenn finally pulled out of Ryoji’s embrace. They looked like they had aged ten years in a matter of minutes. They took a few shaky steps toward Monoblade.

“Is it really all true, what was written in the diary?” They asked quietly. “And all the things that Flo told us?”

“Everything that has been said is true, yes,” Monoblade replied carefully.

Ryoji frowned.

_Huh? Why would they phrase it like that? It sounds a little strange. Or is it just me?_

_Could it be that Monoblade is still hiding something from us?_

_After all… it feels like some unanswered questions remain._

“I...” Gwenn began.

They turned around to face the others.

“I don’t want to die,” they whispered.

“You don’t have to,” Magalie said forcefully. “We can still save you!”

She took out her Monopad, and opened the voting app.

“I’m voting for myself,” she said out loud as she showed everyone her screen. “If we gather enough votes for me, we can still overturn this trial!”

“Dun’t even fuckin’ dream of it,” Bob warned.

He took out his own Monopad and voted for Gwenn. Jordana quickly followed.

“I… I’m sorry guys,” Gwenn said. “I can’t do it.”

They took out their monopad and voted for Magalie.

“It’s a tie!” Magalie realized. “Hey Monoblade, what happens if the vote results in a tie?”

“Then it’s up to me to choose which vote I like the most,” the robot replied neutrally.

“Ryo,” Bob began. “Won’tcha-”

“I’m abstaining,” Ryoji replied as he pressed his own face on the device.

_Sorry Bob. I can’t do this._

“Typhaine, it’s all on you,” Jordana said worryingly. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Think ‘bout yer kid,” Bob added, clearly equally frightened.

“Don’t listen to them!” Magalie yelled. “Don’t you want to be a hero?”

“Don’t give up on me,” Gwenn begged. “I don’t want to die!”

Typhaine closed her eyes.

“What’s going on?” She asked, seemingly to herself. “What’s happening to you guys? Why are you all trying to manipulate me? We need to think rationally, that’s the only way we can survive. Why are none of you...”

She wiped her eyes.

“This is so hard...”

She took a deep breath.

“I’ll vote for-”

Magalie threw herself at her. Typhaine squeaked in fright and pressed the button hastily. Both women collapsed on the ground and rolled in the dirt. Typhaine’s monopad was ejected by the impact and fell in the grass nearby.

“You didn’t do it!” Magalie yelled, eyes wide. “Tell me you didn’t do it!”

“Get off me!” Typhaine shouted defensively.

Ryoji’s heart was racing.

_Who did she vote for? Did she press the correct button?_

“All the votes are in,” Monoblade said, clearly displeased. “And Magalie, do I need to remind you that voting on someone else’s monopad is a violation of the rules?” He added severely. “And punishable by death!”

“But I didn’t do anything wrong,” Magalie replied right away, shaking with excitement. “She pressed the button before I even touched her. I didn’t do anything wrong!”

“But I don’t know who I voted for,” Typhaine lamented as she picked up and dusted her monopad. “This could ruin everything!”

Monoblade grunted.

“There’s nothing I can do about it now. A-anyway, here are the results.”

The screen lit up once more, and Ryoji crouched in front of the throne, feeling like he was about to throw up.

Six votes received. One for Magalie, two for Gwenn, then Magalie again, and one vote for Ryoji. As for Typhaine, she had voted for-

“Me?” Jordana asked in surprise.

“I must have pressed the wrong button by accident,” Typhaine lamented. “That’s not what I wanted at all!”

“It’s a tie then,” Magalie asserted. “Which means-”

“I get to choose who dies,” Monoblade concluded. “It’s going to be Gwenn.”

“No!” Gwenn yelled in terror. “Please don’t do this! I d-don’t want to die!”

They fell on their knees in front of the throne, begging the robot to reconsider, but he didn’t seem appear to be listening.

“The culprit behind this incident was Gwenn Fourneret, the ultimate nothing,” Monoblade continued flatly. “Congratulations, you got it right.”

“Why would you do this?” Magalie yelled, hysterical. “Have you lost your mind?”

“Quit blaming others and start looking on your own actions,” the robot snapped, clearly annoyed.

“I’m doing that already! That’s why I want to die!”

“I won’t kill you unless you-”

Monoblade stopped himself.

“Unless what?” Magalie yelled, pulling on her own hair.

Then she seemed to understand, and suddenly regained her calm. In fact, she looked almost happy in this moment. It was a little unnerving.

“Unless I break a rule, right?” She asked with a smile. “That’s what you were about to say?”

“I won’t comment,” Monoblade replied, clearly uncomfortable.

“Dun’t do anythin’ stupid,” Bob warned.

“Who’s stopping me?” Magalie dared. “If I recall, attempting to assault the headmaster is against the rules. Don’t mind if I dismantle you, little toy?”

“Don’t,” Monoblade muttered, genuinely scared. “For your own sake.”

But Magalie was already at the throne. No one dared to get in her way. She picked up the little robot gently, like a prized possession, and held it into the light. Then with one hand, she grabbed its left arm, and pulled on it.

It detached itself with no difficulty.

“Huh. Mono-blade. I should have seen this one coming.”

The inside of the arm was attached to a knife blade, perfectly smooth and sharpened. The robot’s arm formed the handle, and together they could serve as a makeshift knife. Ryoji panicked.

“Put it down,” he screamed in anguish.

“I can’t,” Magalie replied, almost mesmerized by the light’s reflection on the blade. “I need to do this.”

It was over in a second. No one had time to move, or even scream. She shoved the blade into her own stomach, and collapsed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whaaaat? ANOTHER CLIFFHANGER? When will the torture end??  
> Sorry guys, please bear with me (the funny thing is I don't even plan most of these cliffhangers - they just sorta happen).
> 
> Do you see now why this chapter was hard to write? There's just... a whole lot going on. I did my best but I expect some weaknesses, so if you have any criticism, I'd be glad to hear it.
> 
> Also, necessary disclaimer: Despite my taste for conspiracy theories in fiction, I don't actually believe in them in the real world, y'know? I'm saying it right here just in case someone takes me for a flat-earther or something


	69. Ordinary Execution

Ryoji screamed in horror, but froze in place, completely unable to move. Typhaine and Bob were kneeling next to Magalie’s collapsed body less than five seconds later, desperately attempting to stop the blood flow with their bare hands, while the tall woman struggled to remain conscious. Barely thirty seconds later, a full team of first-aid workers showed up on the scene and carried Magalie’s body away, while several helicopters could be heard in the distance. Ryoji didn’t really understand where they came from – he could only assume Monoblade had called them on the scene after witnessing Magalie’s attempted suicide. Her wound seemed severe, so much that Ryoji couldn’t stand to look at it. Watching her blood leaking from the wound and staining the grass would have been like watching the life being sucked out from her directly. He couldn’t tell whether or not she was going to survive, and the uncertainty was a horrible feeling.

He was about to ask Monoblade if there was a hospital nearby when a thought suddenly occurred to him.

_Where did Gwenn go?_

It seemed like they had taken the opportunity to flee the scene. Ryoji looked up, but the clawer had apparently not shot a single cable.

A curious thought came to him, completely irrelevant to the situation:

_That’s ten employees up there about to get fired._

“Fuck,” Monoblade cursed under his breath. “Where did the bastard go?”

He began to move around frantically, peering over his throne’s armrests in an attempt to catch sight of the young adult. At some point he gave up and shut off completely, the light in his eyes turning off as he toppled sideways like an ordinary puppet. Ryoji exchanged a worried glance with his remaining classmates.

“Where did Gwenn go?” He whispered anxiously.

“Not sure,” Jordana admitted. “I wasn’t looking.”

“I don’t know either,” Typhaine admitted in shame, trying to wipe off the blood from her hands with a wide leaf.

“Wherever they went, they’d better run fast,” Bob said through gritted teeth. “Or this is ‘bout to get ugly.”

“Maybe they’ll manage to actually escape!” Typhaine suggested. “Monoblade seemed caught by surprise, and these clawers don’t seem as efficient as he believed. There’s a chance, right?”

“Don’t get your hopes too high,” Jordana cut in. “It’s very possible this was-”

She interrupted herself. The screen embedded inside Monoblade’s throne had lit up again.

“It has begun,” she said, her voice faltering.

  
  


**

  
  


Gwenn ran faster than they had ever run, their feet lightly bouncing off the grass as they hopped above the stream. They hadn’t chosen a specific direction to run towards; they were acting on pure instinct, in their mind there was no room for thought. They crossed an empty field, a dusty road, climbed over a rock formation, jumped down a three meters drop and took the time to massage their ankles, which were beginning to hurt.

They were alone. No one seemed to be following them.

They looked in every direction, but there wasn’t a single soul in sight. The sky was empty of drones, much to their surprise.

 _Did I do it?_ They wondered in disbelief. _Have I actually managed to escape?_

Feeling their stomach twisting in fear, they resumed running, although at a slower pace this time. They were trying to be quick and stealthy, jumping in fright whenever something moved (though it was usually nothing more than a runaway lizard shaking some dead leaves).

For fifteen minutes, nothing happened. Gwenn was lost in the french countryside, with barely any hints of civilization. It was agonizingly quiet.

Until they began to hear gunshots. They first mistakenly thought that they were being targeted by someone, until they noticed the fence. It was a lot like the one that blocked off all exits back at the killing game grounds, and led to a particularly large and flat field, akin to a golf course. Gwenn noticed a few people hiding behind some trees, wielding some very heavy guns, along with a few corpses laid down on the grass and mud.

_What is this? Another killing game? Or is there something else going on here?_

The fence didn’t protect them from stray bullets, so Gwenn safely retreated, carefully hiding behind large trees. Their escape continued for a short while, until they suddenly arrived on a beach. The light of the evening sun blinded them, and they almost immediately collapsed in the sand from exhaustion.

The sea stretched widely in front of them, its strong waves brutally wrecking themselves upon the shore, carrying the scent of salt and algae. It made for an ugly painting at first: a large strip of blue color above a large strip of white. But slowly as Gwenn’s eyes adjusted to the lights, the simple duality turned into a beautiful gradient, ranging from pink to orange to blue to green. It was as if someone had dropped a box of paints inside the water, and their colors were slowly spreading, losing their intensity as the stains expanded.

Gwenn stood back on their feet and stumbled forward like a drunk man, their clothes and hair dirtied with damp sand. The water was strangely appealing to them, they were tempted to throw themselves in and let the waves carry them away. Without thinking too much, they crouched to untie their laces, removing their shoes and socks, which they tossed away carelessly. The wind blew in their hair as they approached the water, feeling the dampness of the sand under their feet, and the sharpness of the shells that they squished.

“Hey!” Someone called, making Gwenn jump in fright. “Over here!”

_Anastasia?_

Gwenn recognized the voice: though they had only met Florian’s sister once, she had made enough of an impression on them that they couldn’t forget her. However the first time she had showed up in their life, it had been dressed as a soldier, and wielding a mighty impressive shotgun. Meanwhile on that day, she was wearing torn jeans, a gray shirt and a dark leather jacket, all of which looked somewhat torn and burned, as if she had been recently attacked. Gwenn nearly threw up as the sight reminded them of the state of Florian’s corpse. They began to run away from her, their heart racing.

“No!” She shouted in fear. “Come back! I have a boat!”

They refused to listen and ran away from the beach, aiming for the woods which they had previously left. It wasn’t so far, and the cover of trees would protect them. Thirty meters, maybe more, and they would be hidden from-

A bullet grazed their left arm. A few soldiers came out of the woods, carrying assault rifles, and began to storm the beach. Screaming in shock, Gwenn tripped on their own foot and collapsed in the sand, hearing more gunshots in the distance. They were trembling with fear, unable to move. There was nowhere for them to hide – no matter what they did, they were screwed.

A cold hand grabbed their forearm firmly, and suddenly they were being pulled up to their feet.

“Don’t give up!” Shouted Florian’s sister.

Her grip around Gwenn’s wrist was iron; in her left hand was a pistol, which she fired twice. One of the soldiers was hit in the head, which shattered the glass pane on his helmet and sent him to the ground. One of the others stopped by the body, while the others continued with the chase. Anastasia turned around and dragged Gwenn in the opposite direction, toward the water. She led them behind a tall rock where she had hidden a small boat.

“Hop inside, I’ll get us out of here!” She ordered.

Gwenn didn’t hesitate. They didn’t know if they could trust her, but they had better chances of survival on the boat than anywhere else on the beach, so they obeyed immediately. She quickly turned the engine on, and jumped beside them.

“Duck,” she whispered.

Gwenn threw themselves down immediately; a bullet which hit the side of the boat narrowly missed their head. They were paralyzed with fear, thinking they were going to be hit any time then. However, they were still alive a minute later, and even though they could still hear the sound of gunshots, those were getting quiet and sparse. Only when the noises faded away completely did Gwenn dare to raise their head. Anastasia was nowhere to be seen, but Gwenn could hear her footsteps from below the deck. The sandy shore which they had escaped from was barely visible anymore – all that was left was a faint blurry shape in the distance. They turned around, but didn’t see any other coast on the horizon. Maybe Anastasia knew where she was going; but it seemed like she was going to lose them both in the middle of the Atlantic ocean. The setting sun gave the water a peculiar glow, matching the color of the clouds. It made it seem like the boat wasn’t floating, but flying. Gwenn briefly wondered if they had ever seen anything more beautiful in their life.

And if they ever would see anything else.

“Where are we going?” They muttered to themselves uneasily as they crawled toward the front of the boat, gazing down at the green waves beneath them.

“I’m going nowhere,” Anastasia said as she came back on the deck from behind them. “This trip is for you only.”

She seemed to be carrying something heavy, which she dropped in front of her feet loudly. Gwenn was submerged by an intense feeling of dread. Part of them urged them to turn around so they could see what it was, but part of them was too scared for that. Perhaps they thought that it wouldn’t become real if they ever saw it. However, after a few agonizing seconds, they dared to turn around, as slowly as possible.

Anastasia was standing up, holding something that looked like a heavy chain, which she must have gotten from below the deck. It formed a pile near her feet, and was connected to a heavy ball. Her resemblance with Florian wasn’t particularly striking, but they had the same eyes, and the two irises seemed to burn into Gwenn’s chest. They felt the bile rising in their throat.

“No,” they whispered. “Please...”

“Look, it’s nothing personal,” she said neutrally. “I didn’t really want to do it, but my boss thought it would be poetic if you got betrayed by _both_ the Finistère siblings. It’s the only reason I’m here.”

She crouched next to Gwenn and locked the shackle around their ankle. The chain was dark, long and heavy; with the perfectly round ball at the end, it looked like an object straight out of a cartoon. In a brief moment of clarity, Gwenn realized how unfitting it was that this object would lead to their death, they who were the only one among their classmates not wearing a prison uniform.

“I should have stayed on the beach,” they realized. “A gunshot wound would have killed me quicker.”

“These gunmen were paid to miss you. Things were meant to go this way from the very beginning.”

She got back up and lifted the ball in the air, ready to throw it in the water. Gwenn began to panic. They wanted to say something, hoping that making Anastasia talk would maybe delay their death just a little longer.

“But how did you know where I was going to run?” They whimpered.

“There are ways,” she explained neutrally. “We have agents everywhere in this area, tasked to redirect your path subtly. A gunshot here or there, a tree fall to block your path, we knew you’d end up on the beach at some point. And I was waiting.”

“But you don’t want to do this,” they pleaded. “I loved your brother, I was the only one to support him when he needed it. Florian wanted me to live, so shouldn’t you care about his last will?”

She chuckled.

“Shut up Gwenn. I told you it wasn’t personal. I have a job to do, and I’ll do it – end of the discussion. Besides...”

She smiled mysteriously and crouched once more to stare at Gwenn in the eyes.

“You’re going to be back among us soon. So it’s not really a murder, is it?”

She tossed the metal ball. Gwenn watched stupidly as the long chain slowly unfolded like a snake throwing itself into the sea. When their leg was carried with it, they didn’t even think of trying to hold onto something. The water immediately went inside their mouth and nose, a stream of salt burning their throat and lungs. As the surface grew further and further away, as the darkness began to engulf them completely, their last thoughts was that in a parallel universe, Rebecca had probably dived in to save their life. Sadly, she couldn’t do that now, because she was dead.

And then, they were dead too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this concludes part 5! Any thoughts or questions? Don't hesitate to leave a comment below, I'm always glad to read them.
> 
> Before I forget, here's Magalie's culprit art: https://imgur.com/a/7wmMLcn  
> (might add one for Florian later)
> 
> And Gwenn's death portrait: https://imgur.com/a/BuoHQIm


	70. The Ax, the Wheelchair and the Cross

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my sweet readers! I'm not dead! Sorry to keep you guys waiting for so long. Two major things happened to me recently, which might explain the delay in the production of this chapter:  
> 1) I found a job. I'm a retail worker now, the guy who places the items on the shelf. It's a simple job, but quite energy-consuming  
> 2) Full lockdown in France again, thanks to our friend covid, which isn't great for keeping me motivated... for anything
> 
> That being said, I still care a lot about this project, and definitely intend to finish it! So please enjoy the chapter if you're still there (or if you're new), I'll work on the next
> 
> Btw, slight NSFW warning for the middle of the chapter (yes, you read that correctly). It's pretty mild, but just in case

After Gwenn died, Ryoji, Bob, Jordana and Typhaine were all led to a helicopter by a group of armed soldiers. They didn’t wait until the survivors were done crying. Ryoji carried Typhaine in his arms as he walked. He wasn’t sure why – perhaps she had fainted, though with the tears blurring his vision, he couldn’t tell. Perhaps they both needed it. Bob was by his side once more, holding his hand firmly.

When the helicopter landed, they found that the door to the research facility was barred. One of the soldiers explained that it would only open again after the end of the renovations, which would take a few days. After that, they were left alone.

Ryoji couldn’t remember what happened after that. He found himself waking up in a bed the next morning, as the morning lights filtered through the open windows. He was alone and hungry, but getting out of bed seemed like too much trouble. He moved to the side and fell asleep again.

The second time he woke up, the memories from the previous day came back to him. Rebecca, Florian, Gwenn – all dead. Maybe Magalie too. Only four people left.

_Who knew I was going to be one of them?_

He would have probably not gotten out of bed if it hadn’t been for the smell of burned food. He could tell that it came from afar, but his enhanced sense of smell made it ten times stronger. To him, it felt like the whole place was burning down. The sight of Florian’s corpse suddenly flashed in his brain, earning a scream of pain from Ryoji as fell from his bed, sweating and panting. He knew that he wasn’t being attacked, but for a while it felt as if his body was on fire too, and it took all his willpower to not rush to the nearest bathroom to pour water on his arms.

He found Jordana in the restaurant’s kitchen, cleaning up the mess she had apparently created herself while trying to make breakfast.

“Oh, you’re here,” she said neutrally. “I expected it would take you another day to get out of bed.”

“The smell worried me. What happened here?”

“I tried to make breakfast, but it’s much harder than it looks when you can’t use your legs at all.”

Ryoji frowned.

“You could have asked for help. Where are Typhaine and Bob?”

“No idea. I haven’t seen Typhaine since this morning when I woke up, and Bob has been missing for a while.”

Ryoji was already beginning to feel anxious, but he did his best to cast the feeling aside, considering Jordana needed his help first and foremost. They quickly gave up on the idea of cooking something complicated, and Ryoji opened the high cupboards to grab the cereal box, pouring them both a bowl. Despite his initial hunger however, he found out that he couldn’t eat much. He kept mixing the milk with his spoon, staring down at it like a man searching for his reflection.

Jordana sighed.

“You don’t have to keep me company if you don’t want to. If you want to go look for Bob, knock yourself out.”

He nodded gratefully and suddenly left the kitchen. It was a gray day in the parking lot, the garden looked sad and messy, as if it were somehow mourning its caretakers too. Ryoji felt his eyes getting wet.

_This was Florian’s big project… right from the beginning. He’s the one who planted a few flower seeds on the first day, hoping that they would grow. Without him, there might never have been any of this. And now the garden might die, because none of us knows how to take care of it properly._

Ryoji’s gaze drifted away from the plants and onto the walls of the research facility. The fire and the rain had damaged Bertrand’s beautiful frescoes so much that the design was barely recognizable anymore.

Feeling sick, he decided to leave. Wherever Bob and Typhaine were, it couldn’t be here, but maybe he would find them in the graveyard.

But the graveyard was empty as well. When Ryoji leaned over the fountain, he found that it had dried out.

_Was it too expensive to keep it running?_

Ferdinand’s grave had been rebuilt, his statue more beautiful than ever. It had been carved from stone by a professional, the details were astounding. Ryoji sat in front of it and rubbed his watery eyes.

“I wish you were still here,” he confessed. “I feel like you would know what to do. Like you would have been able to help Magalie better than I did.”

A fly landed on the statue’s nose. It began to rub its legs together.

“You’re right,” Ryoji said to himself. “I can’t give up, even though I failed so many times before. I don’t have that many friends left, but I can’t let them down. Thanks for your courage.”

He got up and inspected the row of statues. Rebecca’s, Florian’s and Gwenn’s had been recently installed – were their bodies actually buried beneath? Had the kidnappers bothered to fish Gwenn out of the water after leaving them to drown? Ryoji felt the sudden incomprehensible urge to dig the earth and find out, but forced himself to stop.

He walked over to Lisa’s grave.

“Thanks for your help out there,” he said with a smile. “That trial was rough. It’s been so long, but I still can’t do it without you, can I?”

The statue didn’t respond. Ryoji’s eyes fell on Suzie, Bertrand and Julie’s gravestones. It shocked him how little he knew about the three of them. Their faces on the statues didn’t even look familiar anymore.

_It’s been too long._

He let his feet carry him away from the graves. He crushed a few dead leaves with his feet as he moved toward the street. Turning left, he entered the sports store quietly. The door was heavier than he remembered; he felt like at any moment Magalie would be popping up from behind the nearest shelf, waving a sword at him.

_It was only a part of her plan._ _Another trick to confuse us._ _She didn’t actually_ _want_ _to kill me._ _Though it’s strange – s_ _he didn’t need to, and yet she attacked me with_ _all her might_ _. If she had accidentally killed me then, what would have happened?_

He found Typhaine sitting on the floor beside a large and heavy dumbbell. There was a crack in the floor. She looked sweaty and tired.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

Typhaine looked down in shame.

“I wanted to exercise, but these dumbbells are too heavy for me. I nearly broke my foot with this one.”

Ryoji winced.

“Try to be careful.”

“I know, it’s just...”

She adjusted her scarf.

“Rebecca wanted to train with me, a while back. She couldn’t find a partner and asked if I was available. She said it didn’t matter that I wasn’t as strong as her, she said it’d come eventually.”

“So...”

“I wasn’t feeling like it, so I declined. No big deal, right? But now that she’s dead, the thought won’t leave my head. I feel like I’ve let her down, and I can never go back in time to fix it. So I’ve decided to exercise by myself. I feel like she would have approved of that. But it’s so much harder than I thought!”

Ryoji considered what to reply.

“If it helps, I could come and exercise with you later,” he offered. “Though not right now, because I can’t find Bob anywhere, and I’m getting worried.”

“I haven’t seen him either,” Typhaine admitted. “Have you asked Monoblade?”

“Is he still around?”

“Sure is. He’s grumpier than before, but he’ll answer your questions regardless.”

“Thanks! I’ll be sure to ask him after I’ve left.”

“’kay.”

Ryoji turned around and walked toward the exit, but Typhaine called him back.

“Ryoji, wait. Are we ever going to talk about...”

He knew where this was going. Regardless, he asked:

“About what?”

“About what we’ve learned at the last trial. We have to discuss it, right? We can’t just… ignore it.”

Ryoji gulped.

“To be completely honest with you, I really don’t want to think about it.”

“I understand, me neither. But eventually-”

“Eventually, yes,” he cut in hastily. “See you around.”

Alone again, he called for Monoblade.

“I’m here,” the robot said upon showing up. “What do you want?”

“I can’t find Bob anywhere. Could you tell me where he went?”

“I think he was at the beach when I checked last. Lemme see… no, he’s in the woods next to the beach. There.”

Ryoji tilted his head to one side.

“He’s _outside?_ How?”

“Oh it’s not like he was allowed to escape, mind you. It’s just that your killing game grounds have been extended again. You know that hole that you kids dug in the laundromat’s wall? It’s a door now, and the beach is accessible from beyond there. Have fun swimming or whatever.”

Ryoji felt like crying again.

“Out of all the places they could have opened,” he mumbled.

“I know, I know. Pretty distasteful, right? It’s not the same beach, in case you were wondering. But they all pretty much look the same in this region.”

Ryoji’s shoulders sagged. Not only was he going to be forced to go to a place that would remind him of Gwenn’s execution, but he also had to first walk through the street that triggered his trauma each time. The mere thought was enough to make him sweat.

_Can’t help it. I have to make sure Bob is all right!_

He began to walk, but Monoblade called him back before he could enter the laundromat.

“Wait! Uh, I had a question,” the man said hastily, in a tone which betrayed uncertainty.

“Yes?” Ryoji asked politely. “What is it?”

“I just wanted to know if uh… you wanted to hang out sometimes. Just the two of us.”

_He wants to what?_

Ryoji blinked. He was tempted to ask the robot to repeat himself. The words were so unbelievable, he was sure he must have misheard them.

“You’re asking me to...” he began, eyes wide.

“Aaaah, uh...”

Monoblade was clearly panicking.

“Psyche! Of course not, I was just joking! Who’d want to spend time with your ugly fat ass? I hope you d-die!”

“That’s mean!” Ryoji whined.

But his complaint was lost – Monoblade had already vanished, leaving the poor man even more confused than before.

_What on earth was that about? In what world do serial murderers ask their victims if they can hang out?_

_…_

_Maybe he’s just losing it._

Ryoji stepped through the newly opened door, gritting his teeth and keeping his head down so he wouldn’t have to look at the hill where Lucien had been crucified. The fact that the cobbles beneath his feet had until recently been drenched with blood did nothing to ease his stress.

“Puppies,” he said out loud. “Ponies. Dolphins. Cute little animals, doing cute animal things. Yes. In a flower field! Except for the dolphin, there has to be a river for him. Or maybe a lake?”

Before he could even realize, he was out of the street, faced with a stone wall which was partially collapsed, and led to the aforementioned beach. He still felt anxious, but at least he had managed to walk through the danger zone without having a panic attack.

_It would have maybe been easier if someone had been there to hold my hand._

He walked down a set of stairs which led to the beach. The tide was low, and the smell of fish and rotten seaweed was strong enough to make him gag. The wind was blowing strongly, there wasn’t a single person in sight.

_Right, Monoblade mentioned ‘woods’. There must be some forest nearby… or maybe a park?_

Ryoji walked closer to the shore, feeling a little sick. It was hard not to think about Gwenn’s execution. It might not have been the same beach, but it must have been in the same region; each detail from the landscape seemed determined to trigger his memories, giving him a vicious sense of familiarity. Even the smell of salt felt familiar, the texture of the sand beneath his shoes. Ryoji blinked, and a ghost ran past him, attempting to dodge the bullets. Another figure grabbed its wrist, and led them both behind a rock formation. Ryoji knew what lay beyond: the boat which would help them escape. He breathed in, and followed in the ghost’s footsteps. What was he afraid of? There wasn’t going to be anything there. No boat, just sand and a few shells.

And…

_…_

_What happened here?_

Someone had dumped a bunch of thick tree branches in the sand, next to a massive toolbox, and a few ropes. There had apparently been an attempt at sawing the tree branches in the shape of planks, though it had clearly been unsuccessful. The whole area was covered in footprints; whoever the owner, they hadn’t been wearing shoes.

_Well, ‘whoever’… I know it has to be Bob. Jordana can’t walk, and Typhaine would have mentioned something._

From there, it was quite easy to track him down. Ryoji followed the footprints until they abruptly ended at the woods’ entrance. He stopped for a moment, and listened. He could hear the sound of an ax biting a tree, accompanied by a few rhythmic grunts. His heart fluttered for a bit.

_The mere sound of his voice is enough to get me excited. Even when he isn’t talking._

“Bob? Are you there?”

The noises stopped, then Bob stepped into the light. He was shirtless, which was an odd sight. Unlike Ryoji who barely felt the cold, Bob was very sensitive to it, and was often seen wearing multiple layers of clothes, even under the sun. His body told multiple stories by itself. His thin frame and chest showed that he had been underfed for years, but the small round pouch around his midsection betrayed his gluttony, that of a man who ate what he could, willing to store fat for his future self. He was muscular, though it was hard to tell; his muscles were lean and stretched, as if they were trying to hide under his skin. His hair was greasy and tangled, he was sweaty and looked tired. He was holding a wood-ax with both hands, and bore an expression of perpetual frustration. Ryoji realized that if he hadn’t known Bob, he would have been terrified of this strange lumberjack, and probably run away.

He was tempted to do so, even though he knew him.

“Whatcha lookin’ at me this way for?” Bob asked grumpily.

Ryoji gulped.

“Oh, uh… nothing. I was just worried about you, since you’ve disappeared. Jordana and Typhaine said they couldn’t find you, and…”

Ryoji looked down. He didn’t want to finish his sentence. Bob’s scowl worsened.

“Ah, great,” he said with clear disgust. “I always find new ways to hurtcha it seems. Jus’ wonderful. What a piece of shit I am.”

Ryoji’s heart skipped a beat.

“Bob that’s now what I meant!”

Bob didn’t seem to be listening. He had dropped the heavy end of his ax on the floor and was gazing at it, seemingly lost. His hands were shaking. He looked like he wanted to say something, but wouldn’t quite dare. Ryoji felt stressed and confused.

“Honestly it’s fine, you’re allowed to be wherever you want,” he mumbled hastily. “Uh, what were you doing here anyway?” He asked, attempting to change the subject.

“Tried t’build a raft. I figured ‘twas jus’ about bindin’ som’ planks together with a rope, but it’s a hella lot more complicated than it looks. I’ve been at it for two days, and I can’t fuckin’ figure it out. It’s drivin’ me nuts.”

“Oh, I… I see. But what would we need a raft for?”

“Escape, obviously.”

Ryoji hid his hands in his pockets.

“But the kidnappers won’t allow that, will they? They’ve opened up new areas for us, but they must know how to track us down, or they wouldn’t have done it.”

Bob didn’t reply. Ryoji wondered if he was about to get slapped for his impertinence.

“I know yer right, but still… I hoped I could be _useful_ for once.”

“Bob, you can’t say that,” Ryoji whispered in horror.

“Day after day I keep makin’ stupid promises. ‘I’ll protectcha.’ ‘I’ll be right here by yer side.’ ‘Yer safe with me.’ What a loada shit! I’ve done nothin’ good since I got here. Nothin’!”

Bob’s legs gave out and he sat on the floor, burying his face in his knees. Ryoji paled and immediately went to crouch next to him, placing his hand on his boyfriend’s back.

“Bob, talk to me,” he begged. “What’s wrong? How can I help?”

There was a moment of silence. It took Ryoji a few seconds to realize Bob was crying. It was so silent that he hadn’t even noticed.

“Dun’t,” Bob croaked weakly. “Yer just… gonna be nice to me again. I dun’t deserve that.”

Ryoji’s heart splintered, he felt his eyes getting wet. Nevertheless, when he spoke again, his voice was steady.

“Bob, I don’t know why you feel that way, but I promise that you’re not worthless. You deserve my love and support, and even if you didn’t, I’d give them to you anyway. You’re my boyfriend! How can you think I’d just leave you behind when you’re at your worst? You never did when I broke down, did you?”

Bob sniffled. He didn’t seem ready to talk yet. Unsure what to do, Ryoji elected to hug him from behind, letting Bob rest his head on his chest, while he carefully massaged his arms. They spent five minutes in complete silence.

“I get so angry,” Bob eventually said. “All the time.”

He breathed in and out, slowly.

“It’s been goin’ on for weeks. It’s like a panic attack, but with rage. Suddenly, I dun’t control nothin’ no more. Hate everywun, hate everythin’, includin’ myself. I get this sudden urge to… _destroy_ sum’thin’. T’rip it apart slowly, t’make it feel pain. My pain. So maybe it can take it away.”

He shook his head.

“It’s terrifyin’.”

Ryoji wanted to reassure him, but couldn’t find the right words. As it turned out, he didn’t need to, for Bob wasn’t finished.

“It’s sum’thin’ that I’ve had even before the whole Furantur business. It feels like I’m turnin’ into a monster. Like those assholes who beat their wives and then say it ain’t their fault, y’know? But no matter how much I try, I can’t control it. I get so worried each time that I’ll accidentally hurt ya. I could never forgive myself if I did. Couldn’t.”

He sniffled again.

“But I did,” he croaked, his voice shaking once more. “I smashed a bowl on yer face, and ya nearly died.”

“Bob, it wasn’t your fault,” Ryoji stated softly. “You weren’t in your normal state. You were hallucinating!”

“Tha’s no excuse. I nearly killed ya. What would I have dun if ya had actually died there? And yer not the only one. I nearly killed Becca too.”

“Because the assholes who kidnapped us purposefully infected you with a deadly virus which has the power to turn anyone into a killing machine.”

“Not… anyone.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ya weren’t in my head, ya wouldn’t know, but… the Furantur doesn’t fill ya with rage, or hatred or nun’ o’ that bullshit. It makes ya see scary things. The reason why people kill when they’re Furantur’ed, it ain’t cuz the virus is makin’ ‘em do it. It’s cuz they think they’re bein’ attacked, and are tryin’ to defend ‘emselves.”

Ryoji inadvertently stopped breathing. It was a very simple fact, which he hadn’t been previously been aware of. It made the Lorient crisis incident look even worse by comparison.

“I coulda been stronger,” Bob said in frustration. “I coulda fought my fears, I coulda seen thru the lies. I can’t escape from the fact that I chose to attack ya, and I chose to attack Becca. I tried to kill ya both.”

Ryoji’s throat was dry. He knew that he was supposed to say something, but the words wouldn’t come to him.

 _I’m scared,_ he realized.

Bob seemed to sense it too.

“Sorry,” he mumbled as he quickly got back up. “I shouldn’t’ve dumped this all on ya. Ya should prolly leave me for now.”

“Bob, I can’t just-”

“Please, Ryo,” Bob pleaded. “I need som’ alone time. Can ya grant me that?”

“I don’t know if it’s safe to leave you alone right now,” Ryoji replied carefully.

“I dunno if it’s safe to have ya stickin’ with me either,” Bob countered hastily.

He glared at Ryoji in the eyes, then shook his head.

“I know yer worried, but I need this. Jus’ trust me on this one, ‘kay? I won’t abandon ya, I’ll be back soon.”

Ryoji nodded as he got back on his feet. Though he was extremely reluctant to leave Bob on his own after what he had heard, he couldn’t find the strength within himself to object.

“But we’re having a discussion this evening,” he suddenly blurted out. “About what we learned at the last trial. You have to be there. Will you come?”

Bob looked a little surprised – perhaps he could tell that Ryoji had lied. If he did, he didn’t seem to mind.

“This eve? Sure, I’ll prolly be ready by now. Ya can count me in.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

“Now run along big buy. I’ll be back soon, trust me.”

Bob smiled and raised his thumb up, before taking his ax back in hand with a determined expression. Ryoji walked away slowly, until he could neither see nor hear him anymore.

“This won’t do,” he whispered to himself. “I can’t leave him like this. But what can I do?”

An idea suddenly formed in his brain.

“Jordana can help me. I should go and ask for her advice. She’ll know what to do.”

  
  


**

  
  


“So if I understand you correctly, Bob is running around half-naked in the woods, chopping some tree branches with an ax in an attempt to create some kind of raft that he won’t have any use for?”

“That about sums it up, yes,” Ryoji replied uneasily.

He and Jordana were sitting outside the restaurant, where they had moved a table and a few chairs so they could enjoy the last sunny days as they drank some tea.

“He said he was feeling extremely angry,” Ryoji added (for the third time since the beginning of the conversation). “So much that he couldn’t even control himself at times.”

“And in order to protect you from his unrestrained wrath, he’s taking out his anger on the poor trees, so that he can look somewhat human the next time he faces you?”

“Jordie, this isn’t the time for jokes!” Ryoji complained, sounding pained.

“I’m not joking!” She protested. “Okay, maybe I’m joking a little. Let’s say I’m half-joking. It’s true that Bob’s behavior is worrying, but I’ll be honest with you, I didn’t expect any better. We’re talking about the man who went insane for a few days, then had to come back to his senses to see the mess he had caused – and on top of that, Magalie almost managed to persuade him that he had killed Rebecca, the person who worked so hard to save his life. Can you even imagine what he must feel like? And that’s discounting all the other stuff we’re going through. You know, the constant murder and betrayal, along with the emotional torture that we have to endure daily. No big deal.”

Ryoji took a sip of tea. It tasted bitter.

“I don’t know how to help him,” he whispered.

“Ideally, Bob would need the help of a therapist. We all would… oddly enough, you’re the only one who was awarded this honor, and only for a short period of time.”

Ryoji raised an eyebrow.

“What?”

“I’m referring to that time after Lucien’s execution, when you stayed at the hospital for a few days with Typhaine. I think it was Monoblade who told us you had been assigned a therapist. Don’t you remember?”

Ryoji shook his head.

“I barely remember anything from that time. I sort of remember the emotions of the people that surrounded me, but that’s about it. I remember Typhaine’s sadness and Bob’s love. Rebecca’s fear too. As for what I did, and who I saw, it’s all a blur.”

Jordana stroked her chin.

“Fascinating. Anyway, back to Bob… I’m not sure what to tell you honestly. It’s a good thing he’s not trying to bottle up his feelings anymore, I guess. It’s better if he uses his anger to destroy a few trees than one of us, or himself.”

She sighed.

“If you really want to help him, you can try to lift some of his guilt by using logic. He didn’t kill you, he didn’t kill Rebecca either, and he certainly didn’t kill Gwenn or Florian. He can’t be expected to beat the entirety of the French government all by himself, it’s not his fault if all those things are happening to us. He’s doing his best and that’s what counts.”

Ryoji nodded. He had planned to say something along these lines.

“That being said, watch out,” Jordana added more severely. “We can’t really blame him for it, but the fact remains that Bob is unstable right now. Don’t let him hurt you.”

“He would never,” Ryoji protested.

“Wrong. He wishes he wouldn’t, but he can only do so much in his current situation. You’re a sensitive man, Ryoji – if talking to him ever overwhelms you, then you should back down, even temporarily.”

“But if he needs my help, and I just give up like this-”

“Haven’t you heard the saying? Don’t set yourself on fire to keep others warm.”

Ryoji looked down at his now empty cup.

“But he’s obviously suffering more than me,” he said weakly. “So shouldn’t I put my feelings aside for him? I’m his boyfriend after all, I should be capable of that.”

Jordana winced.

“For one thing, it’s not obvious to me why he’d be suffering more than you. And second thing, sacrificing your feelings for the sake of others is unhealthy. I know it can be tempting, but trust me, it’s a bad idea. Bob doesn’t want to hurt you either, you know?”

“I guess you’re right,” Ryoji admitted, clearly displeased. “Still...”

“I can’t make that decision for you, but you know my feelings on the matter. Consider yourself warned.”

Ryoji nodded.

“Thanks. I appreciate your help.”

“More tea?”

“Sure.”

She poured the hot liquid into her own cup, then his, and added sugar. She mixed it with a thoughtful expression.

“I gave you my advice, now I’d like to have yours,” Jordana said slowly. “If you don’t mind.”

“What is it?”

“It’s concerning Typhaine.”

Ryoji turned his head to the left. The short woman was busy tending to the garden, not so far from them. As it turned out, Florian had left behind a list of detailed instructions on how to take care of each plant, which she was trying to figure out.

“What is it?”

“I want to talk to her,” Jordana began. “About her relationship with Lucien.”

Ryoji’s eyes widened.

“Do you think that’s okay?” He asked worryingly.

“I’m not sure – problem is, she’s carrying his child. I can’t really afford to wait forever.”

“I guess. Still, it’s a very sensitive topic. What would you even say to her?”

“I want to know what kind of relationship they had.”

Ryoji shivered.

“Bad. I mean, bad one. Lucien was fine with leaving her to die, remember? But she loved him so much that she was willing to sacrifice her own life!”

“And all of ours while she was at it,” Jordana reminded him.

Ryoji turned his head again. Typhaine was staring alternatively between her paper and a young tree with a look of intense concentration. He was struck once more by how young she looked – if he hadn’t known she was an adult, he could have easily mistaken her for a teenager.

_Who would believe that this adorable young woman_ _once_ _butchered a corpse and attempted to sacrifice herself for the one she loved?_

_…_

_Did she even realize what she was doing?_

“I agree that their relationship was probably quite ugly,” Jordana state softly. “I simply wonder if Typhaine has ever realized.”

Ryoji blinked.

“You don’t think...”

“I think she might not have, no.”

“But...”

Ryoji waved his arms around.

“He left her to die! I can understand that she might have denied the implications at the time, but surely by now she must have realized who he really was. Right? Right?”

Jordana inspected her nails pensively.

“It’s not about realizing who he was, per se. I don’t think Typhaine was ever fooled by Lucien’s mask, truth be told, and that’s what I’m worried about.”

Ryoji tilted his head.

“I’m lost.”

“Simply put, I think Typhaine has a thing for bad boys.”

Ryoji squinted. He was once again incapable of telling whether or not Jordana was joking.

“There’s a difference between a ‘bad boy’ attitude and-”

“Murder? Yes, I’m aware.”

“Are you implying that Typhaine knew all about Lucien’s faults and was willing to forgive it all?”

“Recall that she grew up sheltered, that for many years all she knew of the world was the lies that her parents fed her. She has thankfully been freed from that prison, but it must have affected her profoundly. You’ve never realized that her perception of reality is at times flimsy? You’ll be talking to her about concepts such as justice, society or culture, but she doesn’t really seem to register their meaning, and the only examples she’s able to supply are from works of fiction. Because no matter how hard she may try to understand, the truth remains that she grew up in a world of fiction, and learned her most important life lessons at that time. Her perception of the world is simply not the same as ours.”

“So you are saying that she is misguided?” Ryoji asked, trying to understand what Jordana was saying.

“Indeed. There’s also the fact that she’s a very emotional person. She tends to follow her heart rather than her brain in most situations – hence the occasional complete disregard for ethics she tends to express.”

“But she isn’t a bad person,” Ryoji countered desperately. “She’s our friend!”

“I don’t necessarily disagree,” Jordana replied distantly. “And as I said, I’m not sure if I’m right. Lately, I’ve come to believe that she’s had much more agency in Lisa’s murder than we gave her credit for. She may have looked like she was lost in her passion and completely manipulated by Lucien, but I don’t think he had that much power over her.”

“But that would mean...”

Ryoji didn’t dare finish his sentence.

“It would be bad if I happened to be right, yes,” she concluded. “Which is why I want to talk with Typhaine. Test the grounds so to speak. Try to see if I’m right. But I’ll admit, I don’t really know how to open the discussion with her.”

Ryoji buried his face in his hands.

“This entire conversation is beyond me. I really have no idea what to tell you. I’m so confused!”

Jordana smiled.

“It’s okay if you don’t have an answer for me Ryo. Thanks anyway.”

He shook his head.

“Whatever happens, be kind to her, okay? Say that you want to discuss something serious, but only if she’s ready for it, and that she doesn’t have to answer your questions. And if she begins to share her thoughts with you, don’t interrupt her, even if she ends up struggling to find the right words.”

Jordana nodded.

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

After they were done talking about Typhaine, Ryoji briefly inquired about Jordana herself. He knew her well by now – she was always smiling, acting carefree and dressing up like a princess, very careful to hide her emotions, but that didn’t mean she necessarily was doing well. For a while, he had been the only one to know that, the only one who could see beneath the mask. Jordana had brought the art of simulation to a level of refinement known to few. He assumed her career as a singer and her status as a public image had shaped her that way, though there might have been more to it.

Naturally, Ryoji didn’t expect Jordana to be fine. None of them were, or even remembered how being “fine” felt. The word was devoid of meaning, in an environment where the threat of death was nearly constant, and the rest of time was occupied by mourning and depression. Still, the human mind could adapt to almost any situations, and make it the norm. Neither Ryoji nor Jordana had ever spoken about it, but both of them considered that there was a way to be “fine”, “good” or “bad”, even in their current situation – it was a matter of how bad one felt. The difference was subtle, but they knew how to pinpoint it.

“It’s going to sound very weird, but… I’m kinda glad I lost my legs,” Jordana said casually.

Ryoji almost spit his drink.

“I know, I know,” Jordana said with a shrug. “That’s not the kind of thing I should be happy about. But considering the fact that the virus nearly killed me, and that I’ve been in agony for several days, it could honestly have been much worse, you know? And now I have to move around in a wheelchair, which is _so weird._ I never imagined it’d make my life so complicated, but it has changed everything! I can’t go as fast as I used to, I can’t go up the stairs, it takes ten whole minutes just to get on my bed, and don’t get me started on showering. Not to mention, I had no idea how short one feels, when they can’t stand up at all! Everything’s too high for me, the shelves, the cupboards, I could barely go anywhere without Typhaine’s help.”

“That’s uh… that sounds real tough,” Ryoji said lamely.

“You don’t say! But it gives my mind something to focus on. It gives me something to direct my anger at, it forces me to learn again some things I already knew how to do, to adapt to this new condition. It’s going to be frustrating, it’s going to take me a while, but if it takes all my concentration and energy, I’ll have none left to be sad!”

Ryoji looked uncomfortable.

“I don’t know if it’s going to be that easy.”

“No, of course not. I’m exaggerating, but you see what I mean, still?”

“...maybe?”

“Eh. Close enough.”

Once that strange conversation ended, Ryoji warned Jordana that he was gathering everyone for dinner, so that they could talk about what they had learned during the previous trial.

“Please don’t say no. It’s the only excuse I could find to force Bob to spend some time with us. I know it’s not the best plan in history, but I’m afraid of what could happen if he stayed alone for too long.”

“Figures you’d be worried. I guess we might as well. We’ve dodged the subject for long enough already.”

Afternoon came, and Ryoji was beginning to feel a little better. Seeing his friends and talking to them had forced him to come out of his shell, it felt easier to avoid his fears when he was around them. Since he had promised Typhaine that they would exercise together, he arranged to meet her at the sports store. They laid some mats on the floor and began to stretch. Ryoji thought he noticed Monoblade spying on them at the corner of his vision, though he couldn’t be quite sure.

_Weird. He has all these cameras to spy on us, why would he use his robot puppet here? I must be mistaken._

As it turned out, neither Ryoji nor Typhaine knew how to stretch properly. They both vaguely remembered their PE lessons from school, but couldn’t replicate the moves they had been taught. Both felt somewhat awkward, like they were performing some kind of silly dance rather than waking up their body in preparation for the upcoming physical training they sought.

“I feel like we’re doing these in the wrong order,” Typhaine said as she flailed her arms around, her face scrunched in concentration.

“There’s an order?” Ryoji asked in worry, attempting not to fall as he stood on one leg only, arms raised in a prayer gesture above his head.

“There must be! And I’m sure it’s deadly important too! Our bodies will hurt a lot if we do this wrong, that’s what my best friend used to tell me.”

“I thought the motto was ‘no pain no gain’ or something,” Ryoji mumbled, rubbing his aching knees.

Typhaine tilted her head.

“It’s true! I guess we’re okay then.”

Once they were done stretching, they discussed what they should do next. Typhaine suggested push-ups, but soon realized she couldn’t do a single one. Ryoji could do three, but didn’t like how his belly brushed against the floor each time he bent his arms. He collapsed on the floor, arms shaking, and Typhaine ran to the vending machine to get him a fresh drink.

“What is this?” He asked, back resting against the shelf behind him, and panting.

“Some energy drink I think. I felt like you could use the calories!”

Ryoji gazed at the flashy orange liquid with unease, but took the bottle anyway, afraid to disappoint her. The smell wasn’t really strong, but it was an attack on his heightened senses. He could only imagine how painful the taste would be.

He took a sip, and winced.

“Not good?” Typhaine asked in worry.

“No no, it’s amazing,” Ryoji lied unconvincingly, coughing.

Typhaine took it from him and took a sip herself.

“It’s not bad! I’ll get you the grape flavored one next time.”

_How about water? Would that be too much to ask?_

“Wait, hold on a second,” Ryoji eventually said, squinting. “This drink came from the vending machine, right? How did you obtain it? I didn’t think any of us had any money left.”

Typhaine shook her head.

“No, I’ve got no money. But since I figured this was an emergency, I grabbed a mallet and smashed the glass! You’re welcome.”

He closed his eyes.

_What did I expect?_

“That’s uh… very sweet of you.”

Next, Ryoji suggested they did some squats. It was another classic exercise, and it didn’t seem as difficult. As it turned out, Typhaine was better at squats than push-ups, but Ryoji soon regretted his idea. Each time he flexed his legs, he was reminded of how heavy he was, and of the weakness of his knees. Moreover, he struggled with keeping his back straight. After the ten initial squats, he began to lose his balance, and he had to give up on the fifteenth.

“Emergency!” Typhaine shouted as she ran toward the vending machine once more.

“No no, I’m fine,” he tried to say in a raspy voice, though it was too late.

The next drink Typhaine brought him looked a lot like pool water, and tasted like pure sugar. It wasn’t as bad as the first one, though not by much.

“So squats aren’t your thing either, huh?” She asked, using her cap to fan her face.

“No, not really. But you seemed to be doing okay, frankly. Don’t let me stop you.”

She smiled, but shook her head.

“Whatever we do, we have to do together! How about we run for a bit?”

Ryoji’s eyes widened.

“Do you wish to kill me?” He asked in a weak voice.

“You’re not good at running either?” She asked curiously.

“Do I look like…?”

“I don’t know. I’m sure you’d run if Bob happened to be in danger!”

Ryoji shrugged.

“Probably, yeah. But that’d be the adrenaline rush, not my own muscles.”

“The what?”

Ryoji blinked.

“You don’t know about adrenaline?”

“I’m not sure I ever heard the word, to be honest. What is it?”

He pondered for a moment, then shook his head.

“I’ll explain later. What should we do next? Anything other than running, please.”

Typhaine seemed to think for a moment. She silently crouched near Ryoji, and grabbed his left arm. She rolled up the sleeve of his hoodie and glared at his skin intensely, flexing his arm up and down. When she apparently didn’t find what she was looking for, she pushed him a bit to gaze at his back instead, unceremoniously tugging on his clothes and placing her hands on his bare skin.

“What are you doing?” He asked in a tiny voice.

“I’m inspecting you,” she replied as if it were the most natural thing to do. “Squats and push-ups clearly aren’t your thing, so I’m trying to see where your muscles are. Maybe that way we can find the perfect exercise for you!”

Ryoji winced. It was definitely a strange experience, especially considering how cold Typhaine’s hands were. He felt disgusted by the amount of sweat his back had produced, though the woman didn’t seem to mind.

_Should I tell her to stop? But she’s trying to help, that would be mean._

“You probably won’t find that many muscles on me,” he said with a fake chuckle. “I’m pure fat.”

“I’m not sure about that, actually,” she replied pensively. “Your back seems to be pretty solid to me.”

“My back has muscles?” Ryoji asked with genuine surprise.

“Yep! I think it’s from having to support this bad boy’s weight,” she added as she mindlessly patted his belly. “It probably takes strength just keeping you upwards. It’s the same thing for girls with big breasts!”

“Please don’t rub my tummy,” Ryoji said, blushing.

“Oh sorry, that’s Bob’s job!” Typhaine replied with a giggle as she removed her hands hastily. “My bad.”

“That’s not the issue!”

“Anyway, we have to find some way to use your back muscles!” She continued, unperturbed. “You’ve earned them, it’d be a shame if you didn’t get to show off, right?”

“Uh… right? But when do we use our back muscles, typically?”

She squeezed her own cheeks, and sat next to him. She spent five minutes in silence, apparently deep in thoughts. When it seemed to Ryoji like she had completely forgotten his question, she suddenly said:

“I have no idea actually. We clearly don’t know enough on the subject!”

“It’s true, we’re complete amateurs.”

“But that’s okay! We should just go to one of those computer rooms on the 1st floor, they had plenty of books there. Maybe they’ll have one on the subject of sports that can help us out!”

Ryoji tried to not think about how unlikely that was. Instead, he replied:

“The building is still under repairs, we’re not allowed to go in.”

Typhaine looked very disappointed. Ryoji felt a little bad for her.

“But then again, I think there’s a bookshelf in one of the apartment suites? I don’t think we’ll find anything, but we can always check.”

“Oh right, the apartment suites!” Typhaine shouted excitedly. “Brilliant idea! Let’s go right now.”

She grabbed Ryoji’s hand, and they were out.

  
  


**

  
  


In the apartment suite, they found Bob standing in front of the bookshelf, apparently looking for something. He somehow looked even dirtier than how Ryoji had seen him earlier.

 _At least he’s not shirtless this time,_ the tall man reflected as he crinkled his nose in disgust.

“Hey Bob!” Typhaine chirped. “What are you doing here?”

He turned around, and shot her a calculating glare.

“Lookin’ for a manual,” he explained. “I need instructions on how t’build a raft.”

“What would you even need a raft for?”

“Nuthin’ in particular.”

He winced.

“Wha’ happened t’ya two? Ya smell like old sweat.”

Typhaine pouted.

“You’re one to talk!” She retorted energetically. “You smell like rotten seaweed!”

Bob’s cheeks flushed.

“I took a dip in the ocean earlier,” he mumbled in embarrassment. “Didn’t think the smell’d cling to me that bad. I can leave the room if ya like.”

“No, it’s fine. Say, perchance, have you seen a book about sports in here? With a title like ‘how to become an athlete in three weeks’ for instance!”

Bob looked confused.

 _Does she think that’s actually possible?_ Ryoji pondered.

“Nah, nuthin’ o’ the sort.”

“Okay,” she replied, sounding a little disappointed. “Oh, oh! Then how about a book about adrenaline? I want to know what it is!”

“You won’t found what you’re looking for here.”

Ryoji looked up. Monoblade was dangling from the ceiling.

“This bookshelf only contains novels,” he explained, attempting to shrug despite his awkward position.

“Seriously?”

Bob’s scowl worsened.

“Couldn’tcha fuckin’ tell me sooner? I’ve wasted fifteen minutes lookin’ for a book that wasn’t there!”

“Sorry, my attention was elsewhere,” Monoblade replied softly. “That being said, I could always purchase the books you’re looking for, if that helps.”

Ryoji raised an eyebrow.

“Would you really?”

“Yeah, what the hell are ya on ‘bout, mate?” Bob asked in exasperation. “I thought the purpose o’ this hellhole was t’kill us slowly. Wha’s even the point in fulfilling our wishes?”

Monoblade remained silent for a moment.

“Regardless, I’ll buy the books you’re looking for,” he said neutrally. “You’ll find them on your beside table tomorrow morning.”

“Cool,” Typhaine commented, unperturbed. “By the way, do you know what adrenaline is?”

“Sure, why?”

“Could you explain the concept to me?”

Another pause, this one a little longer. When Monoblade spoke again, his voice was completely flat, as if he were reading from a script.

“Adrenaline, also known as epinephrine, is a [hormone](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hormone) and [medication](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Epinephrine_\(medication\)). It is normally produced by both the [adrenal glands](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Adrenal_gland) and a small number of [neurons](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Neurons) in the [_medulla oblongata_](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Medulla_oblongata) , where it acts as a [neurotransmitter](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Neurotransmitter)...”

Bob leaned sideways to whisper in Ryoji’s ear.

“What’s he doin’?”

“I think he’s quoting the wikipedia article on adrenaline,” Ryoji whispered back.

Typhaine seemed utterly fascinated.

“...plays an important role in the fight-or-flight response by increasing blood flow to muscles, output of the heart, pupil dilation response and blood sugar level. It does this by binding to alpha and beta receptors...”

“Should we jus’… leave?” Bob whispered again.

Ryoji nodded. Grabbing his boyfriend’s sleeve, he slowly made his way toward the exit door. Neither Typhaine nor Monoblade seemed to notice their departure. Once they were alone in the hallway, they carefully closed the door behind themselves.

“I feel kinda bad for ditching her,” Ryoji said with a guilty look toward the door.

“Knowin’ Typh’, this could take a while. We did the right call.”

He put a hand through his hair, attempting to comb it with his fingers.

“Guess I’ll go back to my business now, if ya dun’t mind.”

“You mean…? Cutting trees?”

“Prolly, yeah.”

“But it’s getting late already! The beach is windy, you’ll catch a cold.”

Bob folded his arms.

“And what else wouldja have me do, eh?”

“Having a shower would be a good start.”

Bob blushed again, then rolled his eyes.

“’kay, _fine!_ I’ll go right now if my stink is really such a nuisance to yer pretty lil’ nose-”

“Allow me to assist you?”

Bob froze.

“Say that again?”

“I’d like to wash you myself,” Ryoji said neutrally, smiling at the end. “If you don’t mind.”

Bob’s eyes shot left and right, as if he were looking for an escape route. He began to sweat.

“Ya think I dunno how to wash or sum’thin’?” He tried lamely.

“Oh, that’s not the issue. I just want to do it myself today. If you don’t mind, naturally,” Ryoji repeated, his smile broadening.

Bob was staring at his feet.

“It’s jus’, it’s been a while,” he said in a tiny voice.

“I can tell.”

“I jus’ dun’t want ya to judge me.”

“Oh, me? Would I?”

At this specific moment, Ryoji thoroughly enjoyed being the tallest of the two. He bent his back slightly as he looked down at an ever redder Bob, tapping his forehead with a chubby finger.

“Unless one of us somehow neglected the laws of self-care, that is,” he purred, voice full of honey.

“Yer one to talk,” Bob replied meekly.

“True that. Still, will you indulge me?”

Bob let out an exaggerate sigh.

“Ugh, fine. I’ll letcha run yer hands all over my naked body. Pervert,” he added in a whisper.

“I’m just going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” Ryoji hummed as he led his boyfriend toward the other apartment suite, gently placing one hand against his back to guide him forward.

**

  
  


The water was probably hotter than need be, yet Bob kept increasing the temperature every few seconds. Clearly his little dive in the ocean had left him freezing. He was right under the tap, most of the water hit his body rather than Ryoji’s. That was the problem with shared showers – on paper, they sounded like a few minutes of blissful erotic passion, though in practicality it was more often two people cramped in a small space, neither getting enough water, and thus feeling both too cold and too hot at the same time.

However Ryoji didn’t, and had never minded the cold. Furthermore, in his mind this was Bob’s shower, and not his – it made sense that he wasn’t getting any of the water.

He ran his fingers smoothly across Bob’s neck and back, applying soap wherever he could, taking the time to ease the tension in his muscles as he went. He crouched in order to reach his lower back, then moved on to Bob’s left arm, which he lifted carefully.

“Do you shave?” He heard himself asking.

“No, why?”

“You’re not very hairy for a man, that’s all.”

“Compared to ya, any dude would look as smooth as a baby,” Bob chuckled. “I can’t believe yer not a werewolf sum’times.”

“Who says I’m not?”

“The guy who slept in yer bed durin’ the last full moon.”

“Touché.”

Ryoji kissed Bob’s hand and moved on to the other arm.

_This is nice. I don’t have to think about anything besides the here and the now. Nothing else._

“I’ll take care of your armpit hair later,” he announced in a matter-of-a-fact voice. “What kind of shampoo do you usually use?”

“Wait, hold on. Ya have to use shampoo on yer armpits?”

“Not sure if most guys do it, but when you have as much hair as me, you do what needs to be done. So, what shampoo?”

“Dunno, whichever. Ain’t they all the same?”

“No they’re not. There are different types for different types of hair, see?”

“I thought that was jus’ a trick to make us buy more shit.”

Ryoji laughed.

“You’re unbelievable.”

Taking care of Bob’s hair proved to be a complex task. It had been greasy and tangled for as long as Ryoji remembered, but the man had clearly neglected to take care of it lately. And as it hadn’t been cut in a long time, it was now very long, which made the task even harder.

“Ouch, yer hurtin’ me,” Bob complained.

“Sorry. I’m trying to be as soft as possible, but if I go any slower than that, we’ll still be in here tomorrow morning.”

“I wouldn’t mind.”

Ryoji smiled. Bob’s comment didn’t exactly surprise him – he knew that his boyfriend had been aroused now for a while (in fact, they both were). Still, there was no need to hurry things. Ryoji carefully untangled each of Bob’s hair strands, removed the dirt that had been stuck between his toes and behind his ears, washed his armpits several times with a few different kinds of soaps and taking the time to kiss his hands, cheeks and shoulders every now and then. Bob remained mostly still throughout the whole process, though he occasionally played with Ryoji’s belly to keep his hands busy, poking at his flesh and testing its softness.

Once Ryoji was done washing Bob, he took the time to wash himself quickly, then left the bathtub. He grabbed a large towel, inviting Bob to join him as they sat on the rug. For a while neither of them spoke, they simply enjoyed being together in the same room, feeling like nothing could hurt them. It was Bob who eventually broke the silence.

“Can I admit som’thin’ tha’s a lil embarrassin’? Also uh… a lil’ personal?”

“Sure, if you feel up to it.”

“This thing that we’re havin’, our relationship… it’s kinda a fantasy o’ mine.”

Ryoji raised an eyebrow.

“What do you mean?”

“I know it’s silly, but… I always wanted to date a rich guy.”

Ryoji smiled. A few weeks ago he might have argued ‘but I’m not rich!’, but he knew by now that he was indeed rich in Bob’s eyes (if a concept like money even meant anything anymore, after being robbed of most of their property for the sake of the killing game).

“I thought you hated rich guys, back then,” he said softly.

“I kinda did, yeah. But they had that sorta appeal to ‘em, y’know? Especially the mean ones, who didn’t even give a glance my way when I was beggin’ for change. Them middle-aged men with their fancy suits who looked at everyone with a look o’ superiority, like they fuckin’ owned the city.”

“A walking cliché, in short?”

“There were a bunch o’ them in Paris, ya got no idea. Well, maybe I was lookin’ for ‘em too.”

“And even though you hated them, you felt like it’d be nice to be in a relationship with them?”

“I know it’s dum,” Bob apologized. “But it’s kinda the dream, y’know? When yer freezin’ yer butt and feelin’ like a dirty rat, and ya see those people who got everythin’ they could possibly ask for, and yet who’ve got the _audacity_ to not even toss a euro yer way, ya think ‘damn, that guy’s a prick!’… but also, in a way ‘shit, I wish I could have that life.’”

Ryoji nodded. He was beginning to see where this was going.

“It was also a bit of a power thing, I admit,” Bob added with a blush. “I didn’t just wanna _be_ like those dudes, I wanted to put them in their place. Y’know, like a… domination fetish, if that’s how it’s called? Ugh, I’m embarrassing myself so hard right now.”

Ryoji smiled.

“I can imagine. These people represented power in your eyes, so having power over them must have been a thrilling thought.”

“Yeah, ‘specially with the fat ones.”

Bob covered his mouth with both hands, as if he couldn’t believe what he had just said. Ryoji laughed.

“Oh, so _that’s_ why you’ve been flirting with me from the start? That’s hilarious!”

“No no, I would never do that to ya!” Bob protested in utter panic. “I swear I love ya for real, it ain’t jus’ ‘bout some weird fantasy or sum’ shit!”

“Bob, Bob,” Ryoji said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I know.”

Bob let out a sigh or relief.

“I love you too,” Ryoji added, kissing him on the forehead once more.

“Thanks.”

Bob sniffled.

“I dunno why I even told ya all that shit. Not like it matters or whatev’.”

“I’m glad you trusted me enough to tell me. Now there’s a difference between relationship dynamics and erotic role-play, but who knows? We might get something out of this.”

Bob blushed some more, and giggled like a teenager.

“I’ll make ya regret those words.”

“Perhaps,” Ryoji replied, sticking his tongue out. “Let’s find out, shall we?”

**

  
  


An hour later, Ryoji and Bob were walking down the stairs, hand in hand, looking somewhat flustered. They were ready to meet up with the others in the restaurant for the meeting, but Typhaine was nowhere in sight. Jordana was seated at the empty table, looking nervous and frustrated. She was biting her thumb almost viciously.

“What’s going on?” Ryoji asked curiously. “Where’s Typhaine?”

“Out,” Jordana replied, a little dryly.

She stared at Ryoji in the eyes, and he realized she was ashamed of herself.

_Oh no. What did she do?_

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I tried to follow your advice, but… I think I upset her quite badly.”

Ryoji wailed.

“Oh, come on… which way did she go?”

Jordana silently pointed toward the kitchen’s back door.

_The graveyard? Great. This can only mean good news._

“Uh, whut’s goin’ on exactly…?” Bob asked uneasily. “I feel like I’m missin’ sum’thin’.”

“I’ll explain things to you if you like,” Jordana said flatly. “Stick around and help me with the food, won’t you?”

“Uh, sure, if ya want.”

Ryoji took the time to steel himself, then walked out of the room. The sun was almost out, and almost completely blocked off by a thick circle of clouds. There was no wind, but the air smelled of dampness, hinting that it was about to rain. The ground was completely littered with dead leaves.

Typhaine was standing in front of Lucien’s grave when Ryoji caught up with her. Though her eyes were fixed on the statue, they looked empty, as if she had retreated at the back of her mind. She stood completely still, while somehow not looking particularly tense. Ryoji gulped.

“Uh… hey Typh’. Am I bothering you?”

It took a moment for his words to reach her.

“No, not particularly. You came to pay your respects too?”

Her voice was devoid of its usual cheer. It was strangely low-pitched.

“I came to check up on you,” Ryoji explained, trying to conceal his anxiety. “Jordana said you were a little upset.”

“Jordana,” Typhaine repeated, as if the name evoked a very distant memory. “Right.”

Her eyes seemed to shift back into focus.

“Jordana said some… interesting things,” Typhaine said carefully.

Ryoji hoped she would elaborate, but she remained silent. He decided to push her just a bit.

“Interesting things? Like what?”

“Things,” she replied vaguely. “About who I am, and who I used to be.”

She turned around, and craned her neck, attempting to find Ryoji’s gaze. There was something uncanny about how serious she looked.

“Hey Ryoji, be honest. Do you think I’m a good person?”

Now, even though this wasn’t at all what Ryoji had expected to hear, he should have been able to reply without flinching. He was a people pleaser at heart, and had always been. He liked to tell people what they wanted to hear, regardless of his own opinions, mostly because he was terribly scared of conflicts, (especially among friends). He was mature enough to know that it was one of his poorer character traits, but it had become a hard to kill reflex long ago, which he didn’t know how to fight really well.

‘Of course you are!’ Was the automatic response that his brain suggested, and for a moment, he sincerely believed that this would be his answer. But the words remained stuck in his throat, as if someone were choking him from behind. Lisa’s face appeared in his mind, quickly followed by her blood which had been found on the floor of his room, and for a quick moment his face became distorted with rage. It was over in a flash, an ordinary observer would have missed it. It didn’t escape Typhaine.

“I see,” she said simply. “It’s understandable, considering what I’ve done.”

“Why did you do it?” Ryoji breathed out, one hand clutched around his chest.

He knew it was a dangerous question, but hadn’t been able to stop himself. Suddenly, he was living Lisa’s death all over again, and as grief struck him like a cold winter wind, he felt himself losing sight of his objective.

“Lisa was so nice to you,” he said, hands shaking. “She didn’t deserve to die, did she? So why...”

He shook his head, trying to regain control of himself.

 _What are you doing?_ A little voice in his mind cried in panic. _Typhaine is already upset, you’re just making things worse!_

Yet another voice was talking, this one louder, aided by the power of his anger.

_Typhaine_ _has to answer for her crime. She never did! How could any of us move on if she doesn’t explain herself?_

Then Typhaine spoke again, and the flow of time seemed to stop altogether.

“Why Ryoji, it’s not my fault. I was simply acting according to God’s will.”

Ryoji raised a finger in the air, then withdrew his hand.

_What?_

He gazed at Typhaine in utter disbelief. He simply had no idea what he was supposed to reply in a situation like this. Nothing in his life had prepared him for this irrational discussion.

_Maybe we’re all gradually turning mad. Maybe we’ve always been mad, and we’re hallucinating this killing game. Is any of this even real?_

“What do you mean?” He asked, trying to ground himself in reality. “You mean that Lucien spoke to you on the Lord’s behalf, right?”

With a dreamy far-off look, Typhaine shook her head.

“No, not really. Lucien helped me hear his voice, but the Lord always speaks by himself. We are his creatures, and he makes of us what he seems fit. It’s not up to us to question his plans: they’re _ineffable._ That’s why I’m not truly responsible for what happened, you see?”

Ryoji didn’t know whether he was meant to be scared or embarrassed.

_How do I get myself out of this mess?_

“Uh, so uh…”

A new idea suddenly occurred to him.

“Wait, hold on. For how long has the Lord been talking to you?”

“Not for very long, I admit,” she replied sadly. “Or rather, I used to not understand his commands before. It all started when Lucien awoke my faith.”

“So basically, you’re telling me that before this whole killing game began, you weren’t a Christian?”

She seemed to hesitate.

“Well, I wasn’t aware that I was anyway,” she explained in shame. “I guess the answer is no.”

_That’s odd. She’s so devout, you’d really think religion has been a part of her life for a while now._

Ryoji considered what to say next. His brief moment of anger long forgotten, he was beginning to feel sad for Typhaine. He saw an adorable young woman standing in front of him, smiling innocently, desperate to look for excuses to justify a crime she had helped commit. Obviously she wasn’t truly responsible for what she had done – Lucien was the real bad guy, he had twisted her mind so badly that she didn’t even know who she was anymore. He had lied to her, used her as a tool to serve his interests, and all for very selfish reasons. She had just been another of his victims.

_But maybe that’s just how I want things to be. Jordana thinks Typhaine might have had more agency than we gave her credit for. Could she be right? It’s easy to pin everything on Lucien now that he’s dead, but his guilt doesn’t necessarily erase hers._

In the end, he decided to be honest about his feelings.

“I’m concerned for you,” he said carefully. “This ‘voice of God’ that you’ve been hearing...”

“Oh I know it must sound silly to you,” Typhaine said with a chuckle, which turned Ryoji’s blood to ice. “I don’t really expect you to understand.”

_She doesn’t want me to talk about it, does she?_

Sweating nervously, he pushed his luck still.

“But what if the uh… Lord gave you more orders? Would you follow them, even if they sounded unjust?”

“To the best of my ability!”

“But Typhaine,” he pleaded, but was cut off before he could finish his sentence.

“I know it may seem strange, or even monstrous from a certain perspective. But things always follow a proper order. It’s not wise to disturb the Lord’s plans! They always come true, regardless of what we do. Even when we try to stop them, fate will decide the proper course for humanity. From a close range, it might have seemed like a criminal action, but you have no idea the wide-range consequences it might have had!”

_Typhaine doesn’t usually speak like that. No, this is definitely Lucien’s way of thinking, probably something he taught her. Right?_

“Do you really believe that?” Ryoji asked carefully.

“I wouldn’t lie to you Ryoji,” she replied passionately.

_She’s using my first name, she probably means it. Shit, how do I-_

“Uh, wha’s goin’ on here exactly?”

Ryoji jumped. He had been so focused on the conversation that he hadn’t noticed Bob joining them. For how long had he been there?

“We were uh… discussing philosophy,” Ryoji explained uneasily.

Bob raised an eyebrow.

“Really now.”

“It’s my fault,” Typhaine said humbly. “I asked Ryoji a silly question.”

“I heard parts o’ that conversation. Didn’t sound very _silly_ to me. Sounded super serious, actually.”

He turned toward Typhaine and gave her a mean glare.

“So that’s how ya been copin’, huh? Blame it all on God. Yeah sure, that’s easy. ‘fter all, he ain’t there to defend himself.”

Typhaine opened her mouth in shock.

“Don’t make fun of me!” She complained, sounding hurt.

He shook his head.

“Sorry, tha’ was rude o’ me. ‘s jus’ that this kind o’ talk sets me on edge.”

“What kind of talk?”

 _Oh no,_ Ryoji thought. _This is going to turn bad._

“If I may-” he began uncertainly.

“Tha’ fancy shit talk. Sayin’ it’s all ‘bout lights and Gods and whatev’. ‘s what I hated ‘bout Luce, and I dun’t like how ya’ve been copying ‘im. It ain’t healthy,” he added with obvious disgust.

Typhaine curved her fists into balls.

“Do you have a problem with me having a religion?” She asked, articulating each word with care.

Ryoji shivered in fright, but Bob didn’t sound impressed.

“Usually I wouldn’t, no. But that thing ya have, it ain’t faith. It’s straight up denial. D’ya even _hear_ yerself, Typh’? Ya realize the shit yer sayin’?”

“It’s perfectly sensible!” She protested weakly.

“Ya need to wake up,” he said mercilessly. “I get that ya needed sum’ time to recover ‘fter whatcha did, but it’s been too long, and we’ve got other people to mourn by now. Ya can’t keep insultin’ Lisa’s memory no more, ‘specially not in front o’ Ryo and me.”

Typhaine paled.

“I never meant to...” she said in a tiny voice.

“I know, I know,” Bob said, clearly exasperated. “Ya never seem to fuckin’ realize ya can hurt people, Typh’, and Ryo’s defo too polite to ever tell ya. It doesn’t make it any less real.”

It was only after Bob said it out loud that Ryoji truly understood what that meant. Typhaine’s words had hurt him, because they were dishonest. He had been so focused on her that he had failed to notice, but it had been true regardless.

“I’m sorry,” Typhaine wailed, crouching on the floor as she burst into tears. “I never meant to hurt any of you.”

Bob sighed, and crouched next to her, placing one of his hands on her shoulders.

“I know, Typh’, I know. It doesn’t make me happy t’see ya like that, I swear. But ya and Luce took som’thin’ from me and Ryo, som’thin’ that we can never get back. Ya get that now, dun’tcha? So the least ya can do is face yer responsibility. I think we’ve suffered enough, on our end.”

Ryoji wasn’t sure whether Typhaine could even still hear him. It broke his heart to see her this sad, but he didn’t dare move from his spot to comfort her. Or perhaps something else was preventing him from doing so, he wasn’t sure.

“C’mon there girl, we can’t stand ‘ere forever,” Bob said softly. “Jordie and I made ya sum’ food, it’s gonna make ya feel better, trust me. Won’tcha come to the restaurant with us? It’s okay if ya need a mo’ for yerself first.”

Typhaine nodded, but didn’t specify what she was nodding too. She wiped her eyes bravely and left the graveyard, walking toward the kitchen’s entrance. Ryoji felt his heart tightening in his chest.

“What have you done?” He whispered, trying to fight his own tears.

“Dun’tcha start guilt trippin’ me now,” Bob warned darkly. “I know it was ugly, but I did what I had to do.”

“She was already upset, and you just made it worse!”

“So what? Ya wanted me to let her live in the fairy tail she set up for herself? Ya wanted me to accept the lie? It ain’t healthy to deny yer emotions, tha’s what Aphrodite taught me, and ya know it too. I dun’t particularly enjoy seein’ her like this, but when nuthin’ else works, ya gotta shake ‘er a bit!”

“E-even so,” Ryoji pleaded. “You know she’s sensitive, you didn’t have to go that far!”

“Yer sensitive too,” Bob countered, his scowl worsening. “I did it to protectcha, ya fuckin’-”

He seemed to realize something, and stopped himself mid-sentence.

“I’m gettin’ angry again, am I not? Shit, this ain’t good.”

“I-it’s fine,” Ryoji lied.

“Course it ain’t. Ugh, this whole business is too damn complicated. I think I need sum’ sleep.”

He breathed in and out, kicked a few dead leaves, then began to walk toward the kitchen door.

“Wait,” Ryoji begged, throwing his arm forward as if he meant to catch him. “I-I’m sorry for what happened,” he said in a shaky voice, his throat getting dry. “You don’t hate me, do you?”

Bob stopped in his tracks. He turned around, and gazed at Ryoji with pity. Then he walked toward his boyfriend, and hugged him.

“No Ryo, I dun’t hate ya. It’s jus’ yer fears strikin’ up again. I got frustrated cuz I dun’t like when ya try to deny yerself for the sake o’ others, but yer still my boyfriend and I still love ya.”

“Okay,” Ryoji said, attempting to control his breathing. “Thanks, and sorry again.”

“Funny,” Bob commented. “We were in the same situation once at the last trial, weren’t we? ‘xcept it was the other way round, with me not takin’ care o’ meself, and ya scoldin’ me.”

“How the tables have turned,” Ryoji replied with a hollow chuckle.

They stood in silence for a bit, until Bob chose to break the embrace.

“C’mon, it’s gettin’ cold. We can try to solve this mess together tomorrow, ‘kay? For now, we both need som’ sleep. And maybe som’ food too.”

Ryoji nodded, and followed him obediently.

  
  


**

  
  


Deep under the earth, a middle-aged man crossed a dimly lit hallway, careful not be seen. He wore a long winter coat above a simple gray shirt and a pair of loose black pants, and walked bare-footed. He had an odd way of standing, his body always had a crooked air to it, as if he were somehow not used to the standing position.

His full name was Joseph Mercier, though he was mostly referred to as Monoblade. He spent most of his days locked in a small room filled with monitors, speaking through a microphone and using a remote control machine to activate dozens of little robots shaped like teddy bears. He was only allowed to exit it to use the shower and bathroom, was fed his meals directly while he worked, and usually slept on his office chair.

He had escaped, though he knew it would only be temporary. All of his movements were recorded, and the security teams had probably already dispatched a guard or two to run after him. Maybe one of the prototype bots, just to test if their legs worked.

It didn’t matter to Joseph, for his goal wasn’t to escape. He wanted to see someone, and briefly. Making sure they were safe was his only goal – he’d be happy to return to his post after that, provided he succeeded.

A screen lit up behind him.

“You shouldn’t be here, Joseph,” came Premier’s soft voice. “You know you shouldn’t.”

He ignored the warning and moved on, pushing the hospital doors open. They weren’t especially heavy, but he grunted from the effort regardless. His arm muscles had gotten weak over the course of the previous month – in fact, so had his legs. He had only been walking for a few minutes, yet he already felt like he was about to collapse.

A few gasps welcomed his entrance in the hospital lobby, all eyes fell on him within seconds. He ignored them and pressed onward – but already a few people were by his side, grabbing his arms and forcing him to sit down.

“No,” he breathed out. “I need to know-”

“Please sir, don’t try to resist. This will only take a moment.”

In the blink of an eye, there was a woman standing by his side, holding a syringe. Joseph knew that it was the end. He’d wake up in his office again in a few moments, and it would be as if nothing had ever happened.

“Please,” he begged.

The nurse shook her head and brought the needle close to his neck, while another one covered his eyes with her hands.

“Wait,” came Premier’s voice once more. “Hold on.”

Joseph held his breath.

“What is it sir?” The nurse asked neutrally.

“I’m curious about what brought him here. May I request we have a moment together?”

The nurse seemed surprised by the question.

“Of course sir. Would you like to borrow my office?”

“I think I would like that, yes.”

“It will be done then.”

The syringe disappeared as fast as it had first appeared, and the nurse dragged Joseph toward a small door he hadn’t noticed earlier. She opened it, helped him sit on the visitor’s chair, then left. She gazed at him briefly before closing the door, with something that resembled envy. Joseph failed to notice. The screen above the mahogany desk lit up, and Premier’s perfect face appeared once more.

“This is highly irregular, I’m aware,” he began, apparently not feeling particularly ashamed of himself. “But I wanted to know if my theory was correct. What were you trying to achieve?”

Joseph sighed. He knew there was no way to avoid it – and though everything about Premier disgusted him, he answered anyway.

“I wanted to know if Magalie was still alive,” he said flatly.

He seemed uncertain for a brief moment.

“Could you… I mean, sir, would you mind telling me how she’s doing?”

The man on the screen laughed.

“Oh, how polite you sound all of a second. But why would you take a sudden interest in her? This is mostly irregular.”

Joseph’s cheeks flushed in anger.

“You trapped me into a room, my only window into the world is the life of these kids. Don’t you understand? They’re the only thing that matters to me anymore. Now please, just tell me how she’s doing!”

Premier’s face was unreadable. It looked as if he felt no emotion at all.

“She’s alive,” he eventually admitted. “The lead doctor told me she has high chances of recovering safely – that is to say, her body should heal if all goes well. Naturally, the same thing cannot be said of her mind. I thought you would have heard the screams.”

Joseph blanched.

“The screams?” He repeated in a hollow voice.

“Indeed. It seems like her mental state has finally crushed under the weight of her guilt, and there is no telling how badly it has affected her. The others might not even recognize her when she rejoins them on the grounds of the killing game.”

Joseph closed his eyes.

_What have I done?_

“You monster,” he whispered to himself.

“I am not the one to blame,” Premier retorted calmly.

“Why are you even doing this? We both know she has already failed the test. Why are you dragging this out when we both know you’re going to kill her anyway? Hasn’t she suffered enough?”

Premier looked pensive.

“I considered it,” he admitted. “I nearly gave out the order yesterday. One word from me, and she would have been euthanized. Publicly, we could have pretended that she had died from her wound, and thus deflected the blame. It wouldn’t change much in the end. But it felt wrong somehow.”

He shook his head.

“The game hasn’t yet come to an end. It would be improper to transition her so soon.”

Joseph had begun to scratch his skin compulsively. Ironically, he recalled that Sébastien had been doing the same thing before his execution. In a few minutes, his arm would be bleeding.

“When will it end?” He heard himself asking. “It’s just absurd to keep the killing game going at this point. Do you really think you can drag this out any longer?”

“No, not much longer,” Premier replied serenely. “I know you are impatient, it is quite understandable. I would probably feel the same if I were you. But we need to run a few more tests before we reveal the final motive.”

Joseph forced himself to calm down. He tried to not think of the awful state he had left his skin in, nor the dried blood clots that remained stuck in his nails.

“You still haven’t told me what this final motive was,” he said calmly.

“And yet you seem to have already guessed,” Premier replied with a smile.

“It has something to do with the AIs, right? ‘Kill someone and we’ll bring your friends back to life’, that kind of deal?”

“Oh no, we would never be so greedy. It’s never been the point of all this. No, the final motive will serve to test their virtue, once again.”

Joseph winced.

“Another of those ethical dilemmas?”

“You guessed it right. And for that to work, we’ll need to bring a new participant into the killing game.”

Joseph looked puzzled. He squinted, trying to think of who that new participant could probably be.

“What? Who?”

“You still don’t realize? It’s you of course. You will become the killing game’s 19th participant, Joseph. Let’s hope you have more luck than the others, shall we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again. Are you interested in bonus content? Cuz I made a little thing in my free time, called "How the cast of AADT plays Among Us". It's all in the title really, felt like writing some optional content, help you guys get to know the characters better if you like. The link is here:
> 
> https://www.deviantart.com/sans-tltre/art/How-the-cast-of-AADT-plays-Among-Us-860976052
> 
> Might upload more of those if I feel inspired to. Feel free to suggest prompts if you're curious about anything! And as always, don't hesitate to drop a comment if you enjoyed the chapter. You'd sincerely make my day.


	71. Gray Days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes yes, I'm still working on this, when I'm not working retail. I still intend to finish this project, and I've made some progress on how I want to tie the story together by the end. I hope you enjoy this new chapter!

“Well, let’s start this thing. What do we know?”

It was the middle of the night, but nobody was feeling particularly sleepy. Typhaine had lit some candles, and Bob had made enough coffee to feed an entire regiment. It was extremely bitter, and yet Ryoji constantly refilled his cup, as if he somehow expected the drink to give him back his freedom and happiness. A day later than what had been planned, Jordana had opened the debate, and was looking at her classmates’ faces in expectation.

“We know we’re gon’ die,” Bob said flatly. “Ya, and me, and all of us. It’s not a matter of ‘if’, it’s a matter of ‘when’.”

He took a sip of coffee. Ryoji briefly wondered what time it was. 3am? 4am? Did it even mean anything at this point?

“We know the government is orchestrating this killing game,” Typhaine said. “They hate us so bad that they want us all to die in painful, painful ways!”

She had put a pile of books on the table in front of her. It had been a day since Ryoji and her had talked last, and it seemed like she had added a lot of items on Monoblade’s shopping list since then. Whether she would actually have the courage to read those, he wasn’t sure.

“It’s not that they hate us,” he said eventually, immediately hating the sound of his own voice. “We got caught in something bigger than us. The GTU is responsible for some massive crimes, and we’re being targeted simply because we’re a part of it.”

He scratched his nose.

“Or so we’ve been told.”

“You think that could be a lie?” Typhaine asked in surprise.

“Wow, wouldja look at that,” Bob said in a bored tone. “Yet ‘nother lie. Wonder-fuckin’-ful.”

“Wow Bob, you’re getting tired of this already?” Jordana asked, fiddling with a small amber bracelet. “This meeting has barely begun and you look like you’ve been listening to a seminar for three hours already. Get a grip, boy.”

“I dun’t even know what a seminar is,” he replied, sounding mildly interested.

“Me neither,” Typhaine admitted. “Can we-”

“Ryoji will explain it to you later,” Jordana promised.

 _Will I?_ Ryoji wondered. _Can’t she let me take my own decisions for once?_

“In the meantime, we have important business to discuss,” Jordana continued, firmly. “Come on guys, don’t fall asleep on me! This shouldn’t take too long.”

Ryoji rubbed his eyes.

_I doubt it._

“Fine,” Bob said, shaking his head like a horse. “I’ll try to focus. S’ry folks.”

“What are we going to do?” Typhaine asked. “There’s only four of us now. I asked Monoblade how Magalie was doing, and he said that she would probably survive, but he couldn’t be sure.”

“You asked about _her?_ ” Jordana said, sounding surprised.

Ryoji felt his throat getting dry.

“Shit, I didn’t wanna think ‘bout her,” Bob growled.

“She did some horrible things, but she’s still one of us,” Typhaine said firmly. “It wouldn’t make me happy if she died too, you know?”

“Dun’t think I’d care,” Bob said flatly.

“Magalie scares me,” Ryoji admitted.

“And no wonder, she nearly freakin’ killed ya! But she won’t ever hurtcha again, I promise ya. And this ain’t one o’ my empty promises, ya hear me? When she comes back ‘ere, we’ll throw ‘er in jail before she can start som’ nasty shit again.”

He bared his teeth.

“We shoulda dun’ that a while ago.”

“There is little point in discussing that,” Jordana said softly. “Considering we aren’t even sure if she will survive the operation. So try to chill, won’t you?”

Bob suddenly looked very ashamed of himself. His face looked redder than before – he grumbled something inaudible and hid his face behind his scarf.

“Speaking of Magalie though, something is bothering me,” Jordana added thoughtfully. “Why did our kidnappers bother to take her to the hospital after her attempted suicide? I know it sounds heartless, but it would have been more logical to leave her to die right there on the spot.”

Typhaine’s eyes opened wide.

“Oh right, I didn’t think of that! Do you think they’re only _pretending_ to heal her, but in truth they planned to let her die all along?”

“Would they really do something so twisted?” Ryoji asked in disgust.

“Nah, it’d be weird,” Bob decided. “Cuz they coulda jus’ left her to die right where she stabbed herself, no need to throw in a charade or whatev’. I think they’re really tryin’ to heal her up there, jus’ so they can kill ‘er in a super sadistic way later. They prolly dun’t like that she tried to end her life on her own like that.”

“So they’re big sadists then,” Typhaine said. “Got it.”

“Is it really that simple?” Jordana asked. “If you ask me, that sounds a little strange. Why put so much effort into healing us?”

Bob scratched his beard.

“It’s as Flo said, yeah? The audience needs t’see us killin’ each other, so we can look like the bad guys or whatev’. It’s a stupidly dramatic project from the get go, they prolly dun’t want us to die a lame way like… a wound that’s infected or whatev’.”

“Yes, that’s right!” Typhaine agreed. “That’s why they go to all the trouble or orchestrating those twisted executions! They wouldn’t do that if they didn’t care about making a show of things. That’s why they’re healing us!”

“Healing us is one thing, but why give Ryoji tongue surgery of all things? Why fix my broken bones when Alexander punched me in the face? Why did they give you hearing aids, Typhaine? None of those things endangered our lives, yet they went through the trouble of fixing us anyway. It makes no sense!”

“What, ya thought they were sane?” Bob asked skeptically. “Ya gotta be a lil’ broken in the head to put together a killin’ game in the first place. I mean, ya seen Mono, yeah?”

“It could just be that they’re feeling bad for us,” Ryoji suggested. “It’s more than one person in charge or this killing game, maybe some of the government operatives just don’t like to see us suffer.”

“I get your point, but that’s not the only strange thing,” Jordana replied. “I’m thinking about these posters we saw in the hospital, and the strange inscriptions on the graves, for instance.”

“Yeah, that’s been bothering me too,” Typhaine admitted. “Like, what’s that all about?”

“They’re just tryna confuse us,” Bob said with a shrug.

“I don’t think so,” Jordana countered. “It’s a bit too specific to be random.”

“What could it mean?” Ryoji wondered out loud. “It’s like they want to put us through some kind of test. But we don’t know what the test is about.”

“That’s the frustrating part about all this,” Jordana complained. “Why can’t they just state it outright? What’s the point in being all mysterious and such?”

“Dunno, maybe we could ask Mono,” Bob suggested.

“I think Mono’s asleep,” Typhaine reflected.

There was a moment of frustrated silence, which Ryoji broke a few moments later.

“Have you read it?” He asked quietly. “Roberta’s diary, I mean.”

Bob shook his head. Typhaine shrugged.

“I have,” Jordana admitted. “It’s exactly as Florian told us – and with Magalie’s expertise to confirm it, I really doubt it could be a fake.”

“I didn’t know we even had that thing,” Bob commented.

“Monoblade gave it to me.”

“Why ya specifically?”

“Because I asked for it.”

Typhaine whistled.

“You have courage,” she said meekly. “For looking into this so soon after the trial.”

“I know,” Jordana replied simply.

“Did it teach ya anythin’ new?” Bob asked.

“Not really. Well, nothing relevant anyway. I learned quite a bit about Roberta’s personal life, but there weren’t any other clues that could have helped us.”

Ryoji flinched.

“What did she say about my...”

He caught himself with difficulty.

“I mean, _our_ dad?”

Jordana frowned.

“She didn’t talk about the man all that much. She seemed to think he was dead, like you did.”

“But they had his photo on the third floor,” Ryoji said in confusion. “I still don’t understand what role he played into all this. Monoblade refused to tell me about it, so it has to be important, somehow. But I don’t see how.”

“Maybe your dad was really important to the GTU?” Typhaine suggested. “It’s possible he gave them a lot of money before he died, and like, they wanted to honor him in some way.”

“Was yer dad rich, Ryo?”

“Somewhat,” Ryoji replied. “We’re not talking about a billionaire though, my family always belonged to the middle-class. Besides, I don’t understand why Monoblade would hide the truth from me if it were that simple.”

“Hm, that’s a good point,” Typhaine admitted. “Then maybe he did something super shady?” She suggested in a conspirator’s tone. “Like, participating in a super illegal experiment for the GTU!”

She slapped her hands on the wooden tables.

“Maybe he created the Furantur virus!”

Jordana raised an eyebrow.

“Was he the ultimate biologist?” She asked calmly.

“No, he wasn’t,” Ryoji replied.

_The ultimate douchebag, more like._

Typhaine deflated.

“I really don’t know, then. But I’ll think about it! If I can be useful, then that makes me happy.”

Ryoji avoided her gaze. He hadn’t forgotten their previous conversation.

“Tha’s all well and good, but what do we do now?” Bob asked dryly. “We know the truth now, no one can win this killin’ game, and it’s not like we can jus’ spend the rest of our lives ‘ere. There’s some people up there” (he pointed to the roof with his thumb) “who want us dead. We can’t just let ‘em win, can we?”

“What do you expect us to do?” Ryoji asked. “We’re not just against a small organization here, it’s the entire French government. They can watch our every move, record all of our conversations, they can follow us if we try to escape, and you’ve seen all the soldiers that they can summon if needed? We’re not bullet proof!”

“Tha’ may be true,” Bob conceded. “But they also got a war to deal with, and multiple killin’ games to manage at the same time. It ain’t jus’ ‘bout us! And ya see tha’ for all their tech, Gwenn was capable of runnin’ thru those fields and woods for a while with no one on their tail. I dun’t think escapin’ would be _really_ impossible, there’s gotta be a way!”

Ryoji shook his head.

“Even though Gwenn managed to escape temporarily, they still got murdered in the end. Where would we even go, if we managed to escape? The whole country has seen the killing game’s broadcast, which is made specifically to make us seem like heartless monsters. We’d have no allies, and nowhere to hide!”

“So what, ya jus’ wanna stay in this hellhole forever, wait for the next motive and die?”

“There’s no point in trying to escape if we know it’s going to be futile!”

“Yer jus’ scared,” Bob argued.

“Of course I am! Aren’t you?”

“I’m jus’ angry.”

“You two calm down,” Jordana advised. “There might be another way.”

“Really?” Bob asked skeptically. “Aight, le’s hear it.”

“As Ryoji said earlier, there’s more than one person running this killing game. We met a few of the staff, sometimes from afar, and it doesn’t seem like they’ve been forbidden to speak with us. Who’s to say we can’t rally a few on our side? If they can’t help us escape, we could at least learn new information regarding this place.”

Bob raised an eyebrow.

“Yer sayin’ that, butcha know this conversation is bein’ recorded, yeah? Ain’tcha afraid ‘bout revealin’ yer plan in front o’ the enemy like that?”

“As far as I’m concerned, people sleep at night,” Jordana replied serenely. “And that includes Mono.”

 _She can’t say his full name, or an alarm will wake him up,_ Ryoji recalled. _Smart._

“Ya can’t be sure he’s sleepin’,” Bob countered.

“I can, because I ran a few tests before we had this conversation. I can assure you that he’s _definitely_ sleeping,” she added with a mischievous grin.

Ryoji scratched his head.

_Not sure if I want to know what kind of tests she’s referring to here._

“I recall there being some kind of double surveillance system though,” he eventually said. “Something about… people taking shifts, I’m not sure.”

“Well, I won’t say there’s zero risk this conversation will be recorded,” Jordana said, perhaps with a hint of frustration. “But come on, these people are paid to watch and record everything we do, every day of the week, every hour of the day and night – can you even imagine how boring it must be? I’m pretty sure they miss a lot of important stuff. Besides, I have… well, not a _plan_ exactly, but the beginning of one. And it wouldn’t work without your help, so I have to take this risk.”

Typhaine had a nervous grin.

“A plan you say? Why does this simple word send shivers down my spine?”

“It’s because my melodious voice is like honey to your mechanical ears, sweetheart,” Jordana replied jokingly. “Come on,” she added more seriously, “won’t you at least hear me out? You can’t possibly be willing to stay in this place for the rest of your existence!”

“No, I don’t really want that,” Typhaine said softly.

“What’dja think we should do?” Bob asked with clear interest.

“I want to learn more about the hospital that we keep being sent to,” Jordana said as she interlaced her fingers underneath her chin. “For one thing, I’m very curious about its location. How far is it from here? How good is the surveillance system over here? What do the doctors and nurses know about the killing game? Are they participating of their own will, or are they being forced into this too? Think about all the things we could learn!”

“They probably won’t agree to tell us all that,” Ryoji said neutrally.

“You’d be surprised by how much one can learn with a bit of persuasion,” Jordana replied smugly. “Or a bit of manipulation, make your choice. I think it’s worth a try regardless.”

“Course it is!” Bob said with a smile. “What are they gon’ do, kill us?”

“I agree that it could work,” Typhaine said carefully. “But in order to get to that hospital, we’d have to get seriously injured. You did think of that, didn’t you?”

“I did, and that’s when you guys come into the plan,” Jordana replied, eyes closed. “I need one of you to break one of my bones.”

  
  


**

  
  


Bob ignited the lighter and lit his cigarette. There was something almost compulsive about the gesture. Ryoji winced at the sight of the flame, trying to stop his brain from associating it with Florian’s death.

_It’s his fourth cigarette today. Unless it’s the fifth?_ _At any rate, it’s worse than before._

The wind blew in Ryoji’s face, making him squint. The soles of his bare feet were digging gaps in the sand beneath him, and the waves that washed over the shore dampened the tip of his toes.

“That coulda gone a whole lot better,” Bob said quietly as he blew the smoke toward the sky. “Really didn’t expect that comin’ from Jordie, not after all this time anyway.”

Ryoji sighed.

“Me neither – and yet when she spoke, it didn’t really shock me all that much. I suppose, after all this time, it’s gotten much harder to surprise me.”

“Ya dun’t say?”

Bob crouched and buried his fingers in the sand, moving them around in a slow and controlled motion. He didn’t appear to be shaking, though Ryoji couldn’t be sure. Despite the full moon’s brightness in the sky, it was still pretty dark at the beach side.

“Hey, it ain’t so bad,” he said, apparently for himself. “She said she’d give us some time t’think ‘bout it, yeah? In the meantime, she can go and pester the crew working on the repairs in the facility. Dunno if they’re gonna be much use, but it’ll certainly keep her busy for a while.”

“Maybe we should have a word with them too,” Ryoji pondered out loud.

“Do ya wanna?”

“It could be useful. Maybe. It wouldn’t be any worse a waste of time than most of the things I do with my days.”

“Hey, give yerself a break Ryo. Sure ya spend a lotta time in yer bed, but at least y’ain’t killin’ all those trees for no reason, are ya? Ya know how to handle yer emotions, unlike this guy,” he added as he pointed toward his own chest.

“At least you’re getting some fresh air,” Ryoji countered. “And some exercise. You managed to build the raft after all?”

“Nah. Tried to read the book Mono gave me, but it’s all complex fancy talk. Almost bored me to tears, and that ain’t an exaggeration. Might have another go later tho.”

“I can help you if needed,” Ryoji offered.

“Thanks.”

The conversation died down. Ryoji crossed his arm, and waited. Bob kept smoking absent-mindedly for a while, until he seemed to remember himself, and his boyfriend by his side.

“Why are ya still ‘ere?”

“I’d like to sleep with you tonight, if that’s okay. The uhm… the nightmares are less intense when I sleep with you.”

Bob smiled.

“Aight, can do. Can’t say I’m complainin’. It ain’t the worst job in the world, sleepin’ with the ultimate teddybear.”

“That’s not my-” Ryoji began, before he understood the joke. “Oh. Uh… thanks Bob.”

“Oh, _I_ should be thankin’ ya. Nothin’ can really keep me warm these days but ya, specially at night.”

Ryoji didn’t know how to reply, so he merely took his hand and they walked toward the restaurant together. But neither of them could sleep that night, and it seemed like decades had passed before the sunlight finally shone on them through the open window the next morning.

**

  
  


“Ryoji? Are you paying attention?”

He blinked and looked down. Typhaine was gazing at him with a questioning look.

“The book said it’s crucial to stay hydrated when you exercise. There, I got some water for you.”

She was holding a little cup filled with tepid water. He drank it without thinking, surprised to notice how dry his tongue had felt.

“Better?” She asked politely.

“A little. What were we doing already?”

“Wall push-ups! It’s the perfect exercise for beginners because it’s not too hard to do. And you can adjust the level of difficulty by standing closer or further from the wall.”

“Right. I’ll get to that.”

He took off his hoodie and placed himself in front of the wall. Breathing in and out, he stuck his palms to the wall, and flexed his arms back and forth.

“Huh. This isn’t too hard.”

“That’s great, it means we’re getting stronger!” Typhaine beamed.

_Doubt it. But I don’t want to crush her enthusiasm, so I should keep quiet._

It had been four days since Jordana had called the meeting to discuss their future. Monoblade had still not delivered the next motive – in fact, he had barely showed up at all. The research facility wasn’t opened yet, and Magalie wasn’t back from the hospital.

 _How long have I been here? It feels like it’s been years by now, even though it hasn’t been that long. If I ever escape from here, I’ll have to rediscover everything._ _The world, my home, how it feels to walk around and see different people all the time. Freedom._ _I can barely imagine it._

“Hey, are you okay?” Typhaine asked. “You seem… lost in thoughts.”

“Huh?”

Ryoji blinked again. It was hard to focus on the situation at hand.

“Wow, okay,” Typhaine said with a chuckle. “Have you been sleeping enough Ryo?”

“Not sure. I don’t exactly remember.”

“Maybe we should postpone this exercise session then. What’s on your mind anyway?”

Ryoji sighed.

“I was thinking about my brothers, actually. It’s the song, it’s one they used to like a lot.”

Typhaine had been blasting some music during their exercise session, to boost their spirits. It usually worked quite well.

“Wow, Ryo!” Typhaine shouted excitedly. “You never told me you had brothers!”

“Huh, really? I thought I did. It’s not a big deal though.”

“What do you mean, of course it is! I can’t believe I’m learning something so important about you after so long! What are your brothers like?”

“I… don’t really know, actually.”

“What? How can you not know?”

“The truth is, I don’t like them very much.”

Typhaine’s face fell. She seemed like she was about to say something, but she caught herself before the words could come out. She seemed indecisive.

“What is it?” Ryoji asked curiously.

“It’s just, I didn’t think you could really dislike anyone, Ryoji.”

He shrugged.

“I’m patient, but I’m not infallible. You’ve seen me getting angry before, it’s no big deal.”

“It definitely _felt_ like a big deal at the time,” she replied as she crossed her arms with a pout. “What did they do to you? Your brothers I mean.”

“Oh, you know,” he replied with a wave. “Beat me up, lied to me, played pranks on me all the time. Brothers stuff.”

Typhaine tilted her head.

“What do you mean, ‘brothers stuff’? That’s how it feels to have siblings? Because if so, I’m glad to be an only child!”

“Uh, I’m not sure. Maybe they were just extremely badly raised. My mom never really punished them when they mistreated me. She uh… didn’t care all too much about what happened to me.”

“Ryo that’s so sad! And you’re talking about it so casually!”

“It’s old stuff. We’ve been through so much lately, it doesn’t really seem like it matters all that much anymore. For all I know both my brothers died during the war anyway – or who knows? Maybe they haven’t, but I’m the one who’s going to die. It wouldn’t be much of a twist at this point.”

His throat was tightening, and he knew what it meant – he was about to cry. But at the same time, he felt so tired that it didn’t seem to matter. He rubbed his eyes lazily and sat down against the nearest wall, almost annoyed by the whole process.

“Oh no, it’s an emergency!” Typhaine squeaked. “I’ll be back, don’t move!”

She came back ten minutes later, cradling a tiny cupcake in her hands. By this point Ryoji had already dried his tears, but he didn’t exactly feel any better.

“That’s nice of you, but food isn’t going to solve all of my troubles, you know,” he said in a weary tone.

“No, but it’s still good! Come on, have a bite, won’t you?”

He did as she told. It was a little dry, but still decently tasty.

“You made it yourself?” He heard himself asking.

“Oh no, not at all. It probably comes from the supermarket, or wherever Mono makes all his errands. But you see all those sprinkles on top? That’s all me. They weren’t there before.”

He had a tiny smile.

“Thanks Typh’, I appreciate it a lot.”

She kissed him on the forehead, which greatly surprised him, before sitting right next to him and slapping his thigh playfully.

“So, like, talk to me. You’ll feel better afterwards! You think your mom didn’t love you?”

He nearly choked on his bite.

“Wow, just laying it out there?”

“Sorry,” she replied, not sounding very sorry. “Jordana says I need to work on my filter, maybe that’s what she meant. Still, do you think that…?”

“I don’t know,” Ryoji replied hesitantly. “I think she loved me a bit, still? At least a little. There were days where she seemed proud of me, as I recall,” he added with a dreamy look. “But she definitely liked my brothers more,” he added a little more darkly.

“Why? Were they handsome?”

Ryoji’s eyes shot open wide.

“Typhaine!” He complained, sounding offended. “Did you just call me ugly? That’s two bombshells in a row!”

“Sorry! Not what I meant!”

Typhaine looked so scared to have offended him that Ryoji found himself laughing, nearly spitting out some cupcake crumbs.

“I swear it’s not what I meant,” Typhaine pleaded. “You’re beautiful Ryoji, you are! You’re just not _handsome_ , I mean, that’s not the same thing, right?”

“Sure, sure, whatever you say,” he replied with an indulgent smile. “I mean, you’re not wrong, in a way. My brothers were rather handsome, especially the eldest, Enfado. Not sure if that was the issue though. I think my mother just wanted a girl.”

“Oh,” Typhaine replied simply.

A little while was spent in silence.

“So like, are you saying it’s not okay to want a girl?” She asked shyly.

Ryoji took a moment to think before he replied.

“I think it’s not just restricted to genders,” he replied carefully. “You’re not really supposed to expect too much out of your children, I think – because they’re not a blank canvas for you to paint on, they’re just… people. Who will grow into their own thing. It’s unfair to attempt to mold them into something they don’t want to be.”

Typhaine frowned. It wasn’t an angry frown, it was the face she made when she focused really intensely in order to understand something new.

“My mom wanted me to be tough,” Ryoji continued. “She often said that boys aren’t supposed to cry, and well… you can see how well that turned out for me,” he added with a hollow chuckle. “She wanted me to be strong, mean and dumb, but I didn’t see myself in that, and it hurt me a lot as I grew up. So… yeah.”

Typhaine nodded to show that she had understood.

“But what if...” she began after a while.

“Yes?”

“What if your child is born, and turns into a very bad person? Are you supposed to let them be who they want to be?”

“I’m not saying you have to completely give up on educating your children,” he corrected. “It’s a question of finding balance I guess. You have to control certain things, but you also have to accept that you can’t control _everything_. I think.”

“I don’t want my child to be a boy, because I’m afraid he’s going to look like Lucien,” Typhaine whispered.

Ryoji remained silent for ten seconds.

“Uh… this is new.”

“I know it’s bad. But what Bob said last time we talked, it scared me a bit. I’ve had nightmares where my baby was born and he was covered in blood, even as he grew up, and it wouldn’t wash off no matter how much I washed him. And then he turned into a monster and bit me, and it hurt so bad, and… and I can’t keep my mind off it.”

She shivered and adjusted her scarf so that it would cover her mouth completely. She kept one hand close to her neck.

“You’re afraid of becoming a mom?” Ryoji asked softly.

“I don’t think I’m ready for that. I know I said I wanted to keep my baby, but...”

He placed one hand on her shoulder. It looked huge in comparison.

“Hey Typhaine, it’s all right. You’re still young, it’s okay if you don’t feel ready yet.”

“Th-thanks Ryo, but… at the moment, it doesn’t look like I’m going to have a choice, does it?”

He remained quiet. Unfortunately, she was right, and there was nothing any of them could do about it.

Feeling his eyes beginning to water again, he said:

“Hey, I know a hug won’t fix all of your problems, but… I’m soft, if you want?”

She nodded, then threw himself at him, with enough strength to knock the wind off him. They both cried together for a bit, then returned to their exercise session. And another day came and went.

  
  


**

  
  


“Hey look, she’s back!”

“Where? Can’t see her.”

“It’s because of the fog. Can’t you hear the wheels creaking?”

“Oh right! There she comes! _Hola señorita!_ Will you sing for us again?”

“She can’t hear you yet, dummy. Be a little patient.”

“Well don’t just stand there, go and warn the others! They’ll want to be here for this.”

“Ugh, fine. But next time, you’ll go. And don’t you dare force her to start before we’re all here!”

“Course not. Now run along!”

Jordana mentally sighed. Talking to the construction workers had been a major waste of time – either they knew nothing that could help her, or they refused to talk. And the most frustrating thing was, they didn’t seem like bad people – if they could have helped her any other way, they would have. But when one’s boss hosted killing games, it was usually enough to crush any ideas of rebellion before they could blossom.

_Unlike us, they have everything to lose by opposing the killing game. I can’t really blame them for trying to save themselves._

She had tried everything. She had tried subtlety, she had tried manipulation, she had tried to be open and sincere about her objectives, she had tried threats and violence, and it had gotten her nowhere. The only ones who had agreed to potentially help her cause had later been fired, and she was worried that they might have been punished for it.

Yet recently a new crew had come to replace the old one, and it had been a good opportunity to start fresh. Singing for them had been Jordana’s latest idea. It was a good way to get them to like her, but also to get them to feel bad for her. She hoped that it would motivate them to help her in any way they could. And if it didn’t, she could get them addicted to her singing and use it as leverage against them later.

It was also a good excuse to start singing again. Jordana had realized how much she missed the stage and her fans. Singing for a dozen construction workers from the top of her wheelchair wasn’t nearly as fun, but it was something. And they were all very enthusiastic about it.

“You came early today!” The man said en lieu of a greeting. “I didn’t expect to see you so soon!”

“And yet I see you’ve taken your lunch break early,” Jordana replied in an even tone. “So even though you weren’t expecting me, it seems like you were hoping to see me regardless.”

“Ah Miss, you read me like an open book! Marion ran off to fetch the others, they’ll be here in an instant. You _will_ sing, right? That’s what you’re here for?”

“Of course Pierre. I’m always glad to sing for you all. How are the repairs going by the way?”

The man looked somewhat embarrassed.

“It’s… going. Not as fast as we’d wish for, if I’m honest with you Miss. But we’re getting there!”

“I see,” Jordana replied in a distant voice.

_No wonder it’s going slow. They know they’ll be sent somewhere else once the job is done, which means they won’t get to hear my singing ever again._

“The electricians have really been… annoying, lately,” the man admitted. “Made a bit of a mess of things.”

Suddenly, Jordana was back in the conversation.

“The electricians? Tell me more.”

The man hadn’t seemed to expect this sudden interest for building repairs, and looked quite puzzled as a result.

“They seem to have received some special orders,” he explained. “They’re adding monitors basically everywhere and keep telling us to dig holes in the wall. They’ve changed most of the wires in the AI room too, heaven knows why. It took them forever, and the rest of us could barely walk through the room for the time it lasted.”

“Truly? That must have been quite surprising,” Jordana replied conversationally, trying to conceal her excitement. “Makes you wonder what they must be thinking.”

Pierre replied something, but she wasn’t listening anymore.

_That’s definitely a big clue, right here. But what could it mean? I’ll have to ask the others what they think later._

She smiled to herself.

_Aphrodite would be proud of me._

“We came here as fast as we could!” Marion shouted as she stumbled outside of the building, followed by the whole team of builders.

Her cheeks were slightly red and she was breathing heavily. She had obviously been in a hurry.

“I shan’t keep you waiting then,” Jordana said simply.

The builders all sat quietly around her in a half-circle, like a group of well-behaved children, their eyes fixed on the woman like she was the most fascinating thing on earth. After taking a short moment to stare at each of them in the eyes, Jordana began to sing. Officially, they were only allowed a fifteen minutes break, but the improvised concert lasted a solid half-hour, after which Jordana demanded that they let her leave, for her voice was getting tired.

The crew reluctantly left her at the entrance of the research facility as they went back to work, and she turned on her wheels, surprised to find Monoblade standing a few meters away from her.

“I don’t think he was supposed to tell you that.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“Hi Mono. People usually start conversations with a ‘bonjour’ these days, did you know?”

“At this point, you must have realized what’s going on,” Monoblade continued, ignoring the interruption. “It feels pointless to keep hiding things from you.”

“Must I really? What are we talking about, specifically?”

“Come on, use your brain, it’s not that hard! _He_ ’s planning this stupid big reveal for later, but you’d really make him look stupid if you figured it out before that happens. I can’t tell you what’s going on obviously, because… y’know, rules and such things. So try to be smart and spare me the trouble, won’t you?”

Jordana squinted.

“You’re not making any sense. What are you even talking about?”

“Ugh, why don’t you get it?”

She could sense that he was getting angry, and she had no idea why. Or rather, she had too many ideas, and wasn’t sure which one to pick.

“Whatever. In a few days it’ll all be over anyway.”

“It will all be over?” Jordana repeated, feeling a surge of hope rising in her chest.

“Ah shit, wasn’t supposed to tell you that. I’m a really naughty boy, huh?”

He laughed.

“You know what this means folks! Iiiiit’s punishment time!” He added cheerfully, laughing to himself once more.

“You’re creeping me out,” Jordana replied in an uneasy tone. “Get out.”

“Sure, sure! Have a nice day or whatever! I’m going to eat some worms!”

_He’s completely losing it._

Monoblade left the parking lot like a drunk man searching for his car, and Jordana wasn’t sure if it was because he was trying to make it look so, or if he had momentarily forgotten how to use the controls on the remote that moved his puppet. Whichever it was, she didn’t want to know.

She wheeled herself toward the restaurant, but ran into Bob before she could get there. He was carrying a heavy watering can and had stuck a massive shovel under his armpit.

“Hey Bob,” she said casually. “You got picked for garden duty?”

“I picked meself, cuz I figured that it’d never get done otherwise.”

“A wise choice. Good luck with that.”

“Thanks. Uh, while I have ya, ya mind helpin’ with a lil’ somethin’?”

“What’s the matter?”

“Typhaine’s not doin’ too hot. Says she duzn’t wanna eat, and I’m kinda worried for her. Dunno if we can keep ‘er in one piece if she keeps skippin’ meals, ya get me?”

“I do. Has she been skipping a lot of meals lately?”

“Not sure, haven’t been countin’. Anyway, I figured she’d listen to ya better ‘n me.”

“You’re probably right. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thanks, yer a real hero. By the way, heard a bit of yer song earlier, t’was kinda pretty. Good job.”

“Thank you.”

_Kinda pretty? That’s it?_

Jordana wheeled herself inside the restaurant, had a long conversation with Typhaine, and eventually managed to convince her to have a small bowl of soup. Then she did other things, and the day ended, and she had to do the exact same things the next day.

**

  
  


“Really? It’s today?”

“Unless you lied on your actual birthday date, then yes, it’s today.”

“Huh. I had no idea how much time had passed.”

Jordana took a second glance at the notebook she had been holding. It contained all of Aphrodite’s notes and theories regarding the killing game’s origin. The only issue was that Aphrodite’s handwriting was so bad that it was almost illegible. Jordana had spent two hours trying to decipher it, before being interrupted by Monoblade who had come to tell her that it was her birthday.

“What time is it?” She heard herself asking.

“One in the morning I think, or maybe one in the afternoon. Not sure, day and night kinda seem to merge with one another when you can’t go outside.”

Jordana looked through the window. It was raining.

“One in the morning, judging from the sight.”

She put the notebook down.

_It’s my birthday, which means it’s already October the 14_ _th_ _. I had no idea how much time had passed. How long has it been since the last trial? A week? Two weeks? I can’t remember._

“So what do you think?” Monoblade asked. “Seems like a good opportunity for celebration, right?”

“Celebration? In the midst of all...” (she gestured vaguely) “this?”

“Not like you have anything better to do. Where are the others?”

“You have security cameras, you should know that better than me.”

“Sure, sure, but I want to hear you say it.”

Jordana sighed.

“Ryoji and Bob said they would be exploring the sewers again, so I suppose that’s where they must still be. As for Typhaine’s, she’s probably sleeping by now. Or maybe she’s still working on her tunnel.”

“Tunnel?” Monoblade asked curiously. “All I saw was a big hole in the sand. What’s the big idea?”

Jordana attempted to massage her temples but accidentally bumped her left eye with one finger.

“She’s trying to find a new entry point into the sewers, I think. She says maybe that way we can escape. I doubt it, but you never know, do you?”

“Oh, I see. Makes more sense now. Well, she _was_ working on her tunnel project, but she fell asleep next to the hole from what I’m seeing. She’ll wake up with the taste of sand on her tongue for sure. Maybe even covered in the stuff if no one comes to pick her up.

Jordana rolled her eyes.

“Guess that’s a job for me. See you there, or not.”

“Sure. Can’t wait to see how she reacts when you break the news to her.”

  
  


**

  
  


“Come on now, Ryo, don’t go easy on the batter. You have to whisk it harder! What are you even doing?”

“My wrists are hurting,” Ryoji complained. “This is much harder than it looks!”

“’s fine Ryo, I can do it,” Bob intervened.

“Yes please.”

“No, don’t let him do it!” Monoblade complained. “Bob doesn’t know how to whisk it properly!”

“What duzzat even mean?” Bob asked with a mean glare toward the little robot, which was sitting inside one of the highest cupboards.

“You just spill the batter everywhere when you whisk it. See? You have flour all over your sleeves!”

“So? Who cares if I spill some flour? We’ll jus’ add som’ more, it’s fine.”

“No no, he’s got a point,” Typhaine countered. “It’s Jordana’s birthday, everything has to be perfect! We can’t possibly disappoint her, it’d be the end of the world!”

“Typhaine, please,” Ryoji said with a sigh. “Now’s not the time to be overdramatic.”

“I dun’t get why _yer_ not the one makin’ the cake anyway,” Bob commented as he whisked the batter energetically. “Ain’tcha a renowned chef or som’thin’? Makin’ a layer cake should be easy for ya.”

“I told you already, I’m very bad with sugary things. Give me some fresh vegetables and I’ll have dozens of ideas popping up, but with cake, I’m about as good as any amateur.”

“Some cakes have vegetables inside,” Ryoji commented, rubbing his aching wrists. “I tasted corn cake once.”

“You tasted _what?”_ Monoblade chirped in, clearly disgusted.

“That exists?” Typhaine asked with curiosity.

Bob rolled his eyes.

“Rich folks and their ideas.”

“It was quite good actually!” Ryoji claimed defensively. “You should watch more baking shows, they make cakes with all sorts of weird things inside. Salad, vegetables, mayonnaise, even meat at times, and the judges usually find it tasty.”

“How much are they being paid to pretend to like it?” Monoblade asked with a chuckle.

Ryoji pouted but didn’t reply.

“Quit makin’ fun o’ my boyfriend and read the next step of the recipe,” Bob grumbled. “I ain’t whiskin’ this thing forever. It ain’t doin’ nothin’ anyway.”

“But it doesn’t have the creamy texture it’s supposed to have,” Monoblade countered. “It says it clearly in the recipe! Your batter is definitely too stiff, it won’t make a tasty cake.”

“Shut up, the batter’s fine! Yer robo eyes are broken or whatev’, c’mon Ryo back me up.”

Ryoji looked embarrassed.

“I have to admit, it does look a bit stiff...”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Bob complained.

“Maybe if we just added some milk?” Ryoji reflected.

“It doesn’t say so in the recipe!” Monoblade interjected.

“I wanna burn the recipe,” Bob snarled. “It would bring me joy.”

“Wow, what’s going on here?”

All heads turned toward the kitchen’s entrance, where Jordana was wheeling herself in. She looked intrigued and amused at the same time.

“No, don’t come in here!” Typhaine shouted. “It’s supposed to be a surprise!”

“Well, a bit of an obvious one, but a surprise regardless,” Ryoji commented to himself.

“C’mon, out with ya,” Bob said, pointing to the exit door. “Go read a book or whatev’. Come back when we tell ya to.”

“But I’m bored on my own,” Jordana complained. “There’s nothing to see out there but gray clouds. Why would I force myself to remain on my own when all of you seem to be having fun in here?”

“We’re not having fun, it’s super serious business!” Typhaine objected.

“Oh, totally,” Monoblade added with a chuckle. “These kids are working their asses off, it’s a real workout over here. Scary stuff.”

“I guess we’re having _some_ fun,” Ryoji reflected. “If she wants to stay, I don’t see why we should force her to leave.”

“Besides, if I’m the _cumpleañera_ , you’re supposed to do everything I say,” Jordana teased. “So I’m staying.”

“Great!” Monoblade cheered. “You can join us in bullying Bob for having wimpy-ass arms. He’s been fighting with that batter for hours now, but it clearly has the upper hand.”

“Hey, that ain’t true!” Bob roared. “Quit lyin’, ya son of a bitch!”

“Don’t insult Lisa’s grandmother,” Ryoji said quietly.

Bob blinked.

“Uh… oh right, I just did that, huh.”

“What are you even doing here?” Jordana asked Monoblade, folding her arms.

“Why, I’m the one who brought the recipe book. I guide these children step by step, or this cake would be a nightmare.”

“You could have just dropped the book and left,” she noted. “But instead you’re hanging out with us like you’re one of our old friends, even though barely a month ago you were attempting to kill us all. Am I the only one who finds that strange?”

Monoblade didn’t reply. Ryoji winced, Bob and Typhaine remained silent. For a while, nobody said anything.

“I think you made him leave,” Typhaine said pointlessly after ten minutes of awkward silence.

“Good riddance,” Bob mumbled to himself. “He was gettin’ on my nerves.”

Ryoji opened the oven, and put the batter in.

“We said we wanted to have a two-tier cake, right? We’d better start working on the second tier if we want to be done before the sun sets.”

**

  
  


Jordana blew the candles and cut four slices of cake. Ironically there was enough cake to feed eighteen people, but she tried to keep the thought at bay.

“It’s really delicious,” she commented after the first bite. “I’m sincerely surprised at how much effort you put into this. It’s very moist and airy, and the frosting is just so smooth! I didn’t think a coffee cake could be so good, honestly.”

Ryoji blushed in pleasure, Bob beamed with pride and Typhaine clenched her fist in victory.

“It was a tough battle, but we’re glad we waged it for you!” She said in a tired voice.

“Whatdja mean, ya barely did anythin’,” Bob laughed.

“I did all the decorations, and it was tough work! I also counted the candles. I can’t believe you’re already twenty-five, Jordana.”

“Is that really so hard to believe?” Jordana asked curiously.

“You’re the oldest here,” Ryoji said softly. “And you might have been the oldest to begin with.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” Bob admitted.

Jordana shook her head.

“No, I’m fairly sure Lucien was nearly in his thirties,” she replied calmly.

Ryoji’s eyes shot wide, and Bob nearly choked on his cake. Typhaine looked down at her feet and remained quiet.

“I had no idea,” Bob mumbled with sadness. “He… really didn’t look his age.”

“This is… wow,” Ryoji said. “Uhm, I mean… hard to believe he was still a college student regardless.”

“There’s no age for going to college,” Jordana replied distantly.

There was a pregnant pause, which Typhaine broke after a short minute.

“Guys, don’t forget we have some presents to share!”

“Oh right,” Ryoji said. “The presents!”

“The presents?” Jordana asked. “You bothered to find presents for me?”

“Oh uh, right,” Bob said in clear embarrassment. “Of course, the presents. Totally didn’t forget, nu-uh.”

“The circumstances are a bit special,” Ryoji said warmly. “We did our best to find something you would like.”

“I made you some origamis!” Typhaine said joyfully. “Look, this one’s a bird!”

She had made several origami out of colorful paper, representing various animals, which were more or less recognizable. Jordana promised herself to use them to decorate her bedroom.

“I went flower picking,” Ryoji continued as he placed a strange bouquet on the table. “Felt like it could liven up the place a little.”

The flowers were all very tiny, tied together with a string and placed inside a glass of water. He had added some weeds and common grass inside to make it look denser, which worked in a strange sort of way.

“That’s very lovely, thanks a lot you two,” Jordana said warmly.

She blinked very quickly and wiped her eyes, then turned her attention to Bob.

“And what about you? Do you have something for me?”

He placed one elbow on the table.

“Well, for you Jordana, I took a shower,” he said with a toothy grin.

She burst out laughing.

“Oh this is rich! Thank you very much Bob, I truly appreciate.”

The others laughed too, and it was only within moments that Ryoji suggested a group hug. But before they could all get together, a loud sound was heard coming from the outside, making them all freeze in place.

“What’s going on?” Typhaine asked, getting paler.

“It’s the helicopter,” Jordana realized. “It means Magalie has survived.”

  
  


**

  
  


The helicopter landed slowly, blowing large gusts of wind that shook Jordana’s hair. She and her classmates were all standing together in a straight line, holding each other’s hands nervously. Only then did she realize how much she had dreaded this moment. It should have been a formality, but her heart was racing and she fought to keep her hands from shaking. However, it looked like her classmates were doing even worse. Ryoji seemed on the verge of a panic attack, and Typhaine was white as a sheet. Bob was biting his tongue almost furiously, glaring daggers at the helicopter, as if he were attempting to set it on fire with sheer willpower.

_How will they react when they see her? How will she react? What are we going to do with her?_

A soldier was the first person to come out. This one wore a helmet that completely covered their face. The shotgun they carried looked particularly menacing.

 _That’s an outsider._ _I should be_ _talking_ _to them,_ _shouldn’t I?_ _They probably have some useful information to leak. And yet I can’t move. I had no idea it would be so difficult._

The second person who came out was a middle-aged man (probably a doctor) in a white blouse. He was forcefully dragging Magalie with him, his grip steady around her arm. He looked quite upset – she on the other hand, appeared to be lost and confused. She was looking around herself like a lost puppy, as if she didn’t recognize the place at all. To Jordana’s surprise, they had cut her hair short. Her long and thick braid had been one of the prettiest things about her, but now her hair was a short mess of dark tangles – she looked like a completely different person. She wore a blood-red prison uniform, which was probably meant to be some kind of joke.

“Good evening to you all,” the doctor said in a deep yet powerful voice. “I don’t have much time, so let’s get this over with, shall we?”

“Whatdja mean?” Bob asked nervously. “Whatdja mean, get this over with?”

The doctor shot him a calculating glare.

“Use your brain, boy. This woman attempted to commit suicide and I’m leaving her in your care. I was opposed to the idea but they left me no choice, so let me give this warning to you all: don’t leave her alone, got it? Always make sure that there’s someone watching her at all times. It’s important.”

Magalie didn’t seem to be listening to the conversation. She was now glaring at her classmates one by one, with a mixture of anxiety and resignation. It seemed like she was unaware that some people were talking about her.

“Do you even know the situation we’re in?” Jordana asked the doctor coldly. “Have you paid any attention to what happens here?”

“Barely. Anyway, I’ll leave you to it. There’s work waiting for me up there.”

“Wait!” Typhaine shouted as the man was about to turn away.

“What is it?” He asked with visible frustration.

Typhaine seemed to be looking for the right words.

“Is she uh...” She asked, pointing toward Magalie with one hand. “Is she even fine?”

“What do you mean?”

“Last time we saw her, she thrust a knife in her own body,” Jordana said neutrally. “My friend here is wondering if there could be any _complications._ We’re no doctors, we don’t know what to expect.”

“She’ll be fine as long as you feed her and let her sleep enough,” the doctor replied nonchalantly. “Her physical state is not something you should be worried about.”

“Her physical state?” Bob repeated.

“What about her mental state then?” Ryoji asked in fear.

The man smiled at him.

“Well, she’s suffered some _casualties,”_ he said vaguely. “You’ll figure it out soon enough. Good luck.”

He hastily climbed back inside the helicopter, careless of the questions that Typhaine and Ryoji were shouting at him. Jordana watched the helicopter getting away, feeling like a stone had been dropped into her stomach.

_Talk about a birthday present._

Magalie looked even more lost and fragile without someone standing by her side in the parking lot. She had brought her hands close to her chest and glared at her classmates helplessly, seemingly unable to utter a single sound.

“Shit,” Bob eventually said, breaking the silence once more. “What are we gonna do?”

“Let’s get inside for now,” Jordana decided. “It’s getting cold. I guess we could share some of that cake.”

She began to move, but Magalie wasn’t following.

“Well, Magalie?” She called out with a chin gesture toward the restaurant doors. “Won’t you come with us?”

“I’m… I’m sorry,” the girl replied anxiously. “Who is this Magalie you’re talking about?”

“What?” Jordana asked in puzzlement.

“Is she… is she fuckin’ with us?” Bob whispered angrily.

“You mean you’re not Magalie?” Typhaine asked in shock.

“Of course not,” the girl replied. “I have no idea who you’re talking about! My name is Daphné, and I don’t think we’ve ever met. What’s going on here?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What the hell, right? As always don't hesitate to share your thoughts/theories/ideas in the comments, I'm always glad to read them!


	72. Him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, sorry to keep you guys waiting! It takes me a while to write these chapters, it's a delicate process and I'm pretty tired these days. Also my PC died in my arms recently (rest in peace) which slowed down the process just as I got a lil' creative boost. But yeah! Finally got it done. Stuff happens in this one. Hope you enjoy it.

“Daphné?” Ryoji repeated stupidly. “What?”

“I didn’t know Magalie had a twin sister!” Typhaine exclaimed in wonder.

“Don’t be stupid,” Bob snapped. “This is still Mag, she’s jus’ lyin’ to us again.”

“Lying?” The woman repeated. “But I swear I’m telling the truth!”

Jordana was about to say something, but closed her mouth. She couldn’t tell why, but something bothered her about the current situation. She had a bad feeling, a sense of dread that settled in her stomach and weighed her down, like a boulder dropped onto her lap.

_This has to be a lie. It wouldn’t really make sense otherwise. Would it?_

“You claim to have never seen our faces before?” Jordana asked flatly. “Not a single one of us?”

“No, I haven’t,” the woman replied, twitching her hands nervously and avoiding her gaze. “Should I?”

The question was so silly Jordana almost laughed. Thankfully she managed to catch herself before it was too late.

“And what about this place?” She continued, in the same neutral tone. “Not ringing a bell?”

“No, not particularly.”

“Right. And you certainly don’t recall your place of birth, or where you’ve been for the past twenty years or so, do you? That would be too convenient.”

The woman was about to reply, but before she could, Typhaine had walked up to her, staring at her face intensely, which seemed to throw her off.

 _Typh’, now’s not the time to act like a weirdo!_ Jordana thought in frustration _. I’m trying to do something here._

“Do you want something…?” The woman ended up asking, clearly confused.

“Yes actually!” Typhaine replied in a matter-of-a-fact voice. “I think there must have been a mistake here. We were expecting our classmate Magalie, but we got you instead, isn’t that funny?”

“Uh...”

“Oh wait, you came from the hospital, right?” Typhaine continued, inspecting the fabric of the woman’s clothes with her fingers. “Didn’t you happen to see a tall woman with long dark hair, usually tied into a braid? She had a pointy noise and freckles, a face like yours actually.”

“Typh’, tell me yer jokin’,” Bob said in exasperation. “This _is_ Magalie, can’tcha see it? Jus’ cuz they cut her hair duzn’t mean she’s a different gal!”

“But she says her name is Daphné,” Typhaine replied as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “So it means Magalie must be somewhere else, right? Why would Magalie lie to us about her name?”

“Cuz she’s… up to somethin’ sneaky or whatever,” Bob replied in frustration, throwing his arms in the air. “She’s lied to us already, or didja already forget?”

“But lying about something so obvious is just silly,” Typhaine argued. “Obviously we would be able to recognize Magalie, right? It’s too big a lie, so it has to be the truth.”

“I...” Daphné began uncertainly.

“Are you hungry?” Typhaine asked. “You must be. C’mon, I’ll take you to the kitchen, there’s cake waiting for you up there!”

“Oh. Uh, all right then. Thank you.”

Typhaine beamed and grabbed Daphné’s hand, leading her to the restaurant. Jordana, Ryoji and Bob were left alone in the parking lot, exchanging confused glances.

“Sometimes I tell myself that I’m hallucinating all of this,” Jordana mentioned casually. “This reality is too bizarre to be anything other than a fever dream.”

“There ain’t nothin’ weird ‘bout this,” Bob stated firmly. “She’s jus’ lyin’ again.”

“What for?” Ryoji asked.

“Cuz like...”

Bob tapped his fingers together pensively.

“Cuz she fucked up big time. It’s her fault if Flo and Gwenn are dead, and same for Aphrodite and Ferdie. She knows we’re never gon’ trust ‘er again, so she pretends to be someone else, hopin’ that at least one of us bites.”

He glared at the restaurant doors as they closed behind Typhaine and Daphné.

“But this time it ain’t gonna work. I won’t let my guard down. I’m goin’ with them, make sure she duzn’t try to manipulate Typh’.”

He left the parking lot with a look of determination on his face, pushing the doors with both arms. Jordana found herself alone with Ryoji. Night had just fallen, and he seemed to be watching the stars.

“What do you think about all this?” She asked curiously.

“I’m not sure.”

“Didn’t you read her emotions? You should have been able to tell if she was lying or not.”

Ryoji frowned.

“I tried,” he explained. “But it was… hard to read.”

“How so?”

Ryoji rubbed his own shoulders.

“I’m not a lie detector, you know? I can tell when people’s emotions don’t match with their behavior, but that’s about it. What I can tell is that she was very scared, but that doesn’t really tell us anything, does it?”

Jordana tilted her head.

“No, not really. I would be surprised if she _hadn’t_ been scared, really.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

Jordana tapped her fingers against her armrest.

_Why do I feel like he’s hiding something from me?_

**

Typhaine ran up the stairs with excitement, Dragging Daphné by the sleeve. Bob was following them from a safe distance, like a grumpy shadow sticking to the soles of their shoes. No matter the circumstances, Typhaine never seemed to run out of energy – Bob wondered if he had ever seen her _walk_ up the stairs even once. Just watching her running around was enough to make him feel exhausted, at times.

After her and Daphné had shared a few slices of cake, Typhaine had decided to give Daphné a tour of the campus, which Bob felt was one of the stupidest things she had done in ages. Why she bought the charade, he couldn’t tell, but he was determined to not leave the two alone even for a moment. Regardless of how tired or annoyed he might feel.

_With a bit of luck, this should be funny. Mag’s gotta find this as annoyin’ as me._

“So this is the apartment suite n°1!” Typhaine shouted proudly. “Or maybe it’s n°2, I always get those two mixed up. Anyway, it’s the coolest place in the building, because it has a piano! Also you have a really nice view of the garden if you look through the window.”

“The floorboards are leaning a bit,” Daphné noted in quiet worry. “Isn’t that dangerous?”

“A little,” Typhaine admitted. “This room is quite special by the way. None of us really like staying here for too long, especially Bob.”

“Why is that?” Daphné asked curiously.

“Cuz it’s where ya tried to murder me,” Bob replied, leaning against the wall right next to the door. “I was unconscious at the time, but it still don’t feel super nice, as you might guess.”

“M-murder?” Daphné repeated in shock. “No, I would never murder anyone! What… what has been going on here?”

“You really have no clue, huh?” Typhaine asked, her expression undecipherable. “Well, that’s an explanation for later. For now, let’s stick with the tour! I can only do so much at a time.”

“But-” Daphné began.

“Why don’t you look through the window?” Typhaine suggested. “It’s a really lovely sight!”

“’xcept the garden is dyin’,” Bob commented. “Figures none of us’d know how to take care of it properly. But hey, dun’t feel guilty _Daphné_ , it’s not like yer responsible for Flo and Gwenn’s death, is it? Oh wait.”

Daphné mumbled something inaudible, then peered through the window as Typhaine had instructed. For a while, no one said anything, until she realized that the other two were expecting commentary.

“Uh, it’s not bad,” she said hesitantly. “There’s not much I can see in this light obviously, I assume this place is prettier when the sun shines. I wonder though, what’s that tall building over there?”

“Oh, that’s the research facility!” Typhaine explained cheerfully. “It’s where we used to sleep, but it’s currently under repairs because...”

She glared at Daphné awkwardly.

“Uh, it’s inaccessible now because you kinda set it on fire.”

“I _what?”_ Daphné repeated in horror.

Bob snorted.

“Okay, this is actually kinda fun. When d’ya think yer gonna drop the act, Mag? I give ya a day and a half before ya get tired of it.”

“Bob, there’s no need for that,” Typhaine scolded quietly. “Come on Daphné, I’ll show you the workshop! Oh uh, that reminds me. Don’t mention hammers or nails when you’re around Ryoji, got it? He’s pretty sensitive around the topic.”

“Traumatized, more like,” Bob said coldly.

“Is it because of something I did?” Daphné asked with a nervous chuckle which Bob found very convincing.

It seemed like she was on the verge of breaking down. Typhaine laughed.

“Of course not, silly! That one was _my_ fault. Come on now, we don’t have any time to waste! I want to finish this before it gets too late.”

She moved inside the workshop and began to talk, but had to stop herself and turn back around when she noticed that no one was following her.

“What’s the matter?” She asked innocently.

“What’s the matter?” Daphné repeated. “What is _wrong_ with you people? I’ve been there for what, half an hour? And you keep mentioning these m-murders,” (she seemed to have trouble formulating the word) “as if they were completely ordinary things! Is this some kind of twisted joke? What is going on here?”

Typhaine and Bob exchanged a glance.

“She’s a pretty good actor, ain’t she?” Bob asked conversationally. “Must be pretty annoyin’, pretendin’ not to know any o’ that stuff.”

“Stop it Bob,” Typhaine replied quietly. “I… I’m sorry Daphné. I didn’t mean to be rude, it’s just… well, a lot’s happened to us lately!”

Bob chuckled.

“Uh, let’s count, shall we? We’ve been locked in tight spaces, forced to kill each other, manipulated in choosin’ a victim among our group, threatened to reveal our dirtiest secrets, almost drowned once, and almost burned jus’ a bit later. What am I forgettin’? Oh right, the viruses that nearly killed us! And of course there’s the whole trial shenanigans, but that’s just gotten so ordinary by this point, it dun’t even feel like abuse anymore.”

He extended his hand as he spoke, raising a finger each time he mentioned a new element. Daphné was covering her mouth with her hand, but it was hard to say whether she believed him or not.

“That’s to say, we’ve been through many violent situations,” Typhaine summarized. “Life has been hell for us, so we’re kinda… desensitized at this point? Nothing feels nearly as bad as it used to.”

Daphné shook her head.

“You are both crazy,” she stated in a mixture of fear and anger. “I don’t want to stay here any longer!”

And before any of them could reply, she grabbed the door handle with shaky hands and ran out of the room. 

“No wait!” Typhaine called out.

“Eh,” Bob sighed. “’twas to be expected. She prolly ran outta patience.”

He moved from his wall and opened the door again.

“C’mon Typh. We can’t let her run on her own. She could be dangerous. Won’tcha help me chase her?”

**

As it turned out, Daphné could only run so far. She was entering the woods by the beach side by the time Bob and Typhaine finally caught up with her. It seemed like nothing would stop her from attempting to flee, including warnings and threats. Bob and Typhaine soon realized the only way to stop her would be using physical force.

“Let me go!” Daphné yelled in fear and frustration.

“We can’t do that!” Typhaine replied stubbornly, diving to grab her leg. “We don’t leave our friends behind!”

“We aren’t friends!” Daphné shouted back. “I barely even know you!”

“Whatcha even doin’?” Bob grunted as he did an effort to lock Daphné’s arm behind her back so that she couldn’t move. “Ya know it’s dangerous t’go beyond there. The soldiers don’t want us wanderin’ too far, they’ll kill us if they think we’re tryin’ to escape. I know yer committed to yer act, but tha’s jus’ super stupid!”

“For the last time, I have no idea what’s going on here,” Daphné cried, struggling to get loose. “Please let me go!”

“And letcha get killed? Like hell. Hey Mono, come over here!” Bob barked. “C’mon, dun’t make me wait ya lil’ bastard!”

In a split second, the small robot was with them on the beach. Bob noticed that its eyes did not glow in the dark.

“What do you want from me?” Joseph asked neutrally.

“Tell this stupid gal to not run around too far, cuz she won’t listen to me,” he said through gritted teeth. “And stop strugglin’ ya fuckin’ donkey!” He complained as Daphné tried to jab at his face with her left elbow.

“A gate has been set beyond the woods, it’s now impossible to wander too far,” Monoblade explained politely. “Let her go and she’ll find out on her own.”

Bob was only happy to oblige. Daphné dashed forward the second he released his grip, practically dragging Typhaine with her in her haste to enter the woods. Bob found that the way she had been struggling was weird – she had been throwing her arms and hands all over the place while screaming like a wild animal. For a reason he could not quite place, that did not feel very “Magalie”. He felt like Magalie would not have bothered to scream, for one thing – and she would have probably bit him at some point, if she really wanted him to let go.

“What the heck is _wrong_ with her?” He asked himself as he rubbed his aching wrists.

“What could you possibly mean?” Joseph replied neutrally.

“Oh dun’t start fuckin’ with me too, ya _know_ what’s up.”

“About what?”

“About Magalie!”

“I don’t see Magalie anywhere. But the cameras I’ve placed in the woods are picking up on some activity, and it seems like Daphné is attempting to climb the fence. The picture is pretty clear. Do you want a print?”

“Ugh, yer such a pain. Can’t get a clear answer outta ya even when we beg, can we?”

“You didn’t ask any question,” Joseph noted.

Bob tried to contain his desire to kick the robot into the sea.

“Fine. Answer me this then: who’s that girl that came outta that helicopter jus’ a few moments ago?”

“Daphné.”

“Yer lyin’!”

“Why do you have to make things so complicated?” Joseph asked serenely. “She calls herself Daphné, then she must be Daphné.”

“But she’s got Mag’s body,” Bob argued angrily.

“So?”

“So? That’s all ya gotta say?”

It was a little hard to see in the dark, but it felt like the robot was sneering at him. Bob breathed in and out, then sat down in the sand, patting his pockets in search for a cigarette.

After blowing out a few cloud smokes, he felt a little calmer, and like he could think a little more clearly.

“So what is it then?” he ended up asking to a still present Monoblade. “She’s got split personality or sum’ shit?”

“Who?”

Bob picked up a rock.

“Don’t throw it!” Joseph advised hastily, sounding stressed. “You’d regret it thoroughly I assure you!”

“Then stop playin’ with me and answer,” Bob spat out, articulating each syllable with care.

“Fine, fine! Magalie’s medical records never specified a case of dissociative identity disorder, or anything of the sort. Happy now?”

“Yeah, I am. Cuz it means she’s lyin’, and I was right.”

“Believe what you wish.”

Bob got up, tossed his cigarette in the water, then stared at the woods in expectation.

“It’s gettin’ cold,” he noted. “Ain’t they comin’ out?”

“No, they’re having a conversation,” Joseph explained. “They sat down on the ground and are resting their backs against the fence. I don’t think they’ll be moving anytime soon.”

Bob wailed, then rubbed his tired eyes.

_I need a beer. Or a magic Ryo hug. Seriously, this is too much for me._

With resigned determination, he stepped into the woods.

**

“Eighteen people?” Daphné repeated in astonishment.

“That’s as many as we used to be, yes,” Typhaine replied. “Thirteen of my classmates died, one by one, and sometimes I had to watch. Once I even had to be there for it.”

“But how could something like this be? This sounds too horrible to be true.”

“Oh, it’s just politics,” Typhaine replied vaguely. “I don’t trouble myself with that all too much. Some people want us dead, and that’s enough for me. Actually, they want you dead too, unless there’s been a mistake. So these are technically your last days on earth.”

Daphné shuddered.

“You say that with such calm,” she realized. “With such resignation!”

“And I can see that you don’t believe me,” Typhaine replied with a smile. “That’s okay though. Maybe it’s better this way. Maybe it’s better to have hope. I’m not sure.”

“I don’t understand you,” Daphné admitted in a shaky voice. “I really don’t.”

“Why?”

“If what you’re saying is the truth, then how can you be… okay with it? Shouldn’t you be enraged? Or devastated?”

“I may look strong now, but that’s just because I’m with you. When I’m alone in my room at night, I tend to cry a lot. Sometimes I forget myself so much, and then I wake up with blood on my arms! It’s awful, but… it’s just my life now. I’ve tried to change it, and it hasn’t worked very well for me.”

Daphné suddenly got up, placing one hand on her shoulder as if she were looking for an invisible necklace.

“And you’re saying I was here,” she continued. “You’re saying I participated in this game of murder. You’re saying I did some horrible things too.”

“You did. You shot Aphrodite with a gun, and Ferdinand sacrificed himself to save you. Then you were mean and horrible with everyone, and you tried to hang Bob. And when that didn’t work, and Rebecca died in his place, you helped Florian commit suicide. And then you tried to kill yourself too.”

“No, I don’t think I did,” Daphné whispered, apparently to herself. “I wouldn’t do something like this,” she added with a little more intensity in her voice.

“I think that’s what they all would have said,” Typhaine replied in amusement. “Lucien loved to tell me he wouldn’t submit to the temptation, but in the end he killed Lisa anyway. He did...”

At that moment, they were interrupted by Bob’s arrival.

“Gals, what the hell are ya even doin’ here? It’s gettin’ so dark I can’t even see my feet. We gotta get back to the restaurant, got it?”

“Sure,” Typhaine replied with a yawn. “I’ll be there in a second.”

“I dun’t have the patience to wait that long,” Bob replied as he picked her up without a second thought, cradling her in his arms like a baby.

Typhaine did not seem to mind the gesture, or to find it particularly surprising. Daphné watched everything with a concerned expression but remained quiet.

“C’mon, we’ll find ya a bed,” Bob said as he led the way.

“For who, me?” Daphné replied after a little while.

“Nah, the tree. C’mon, dun’t waste anymore o’ my time please.”

And so they walked together toward their home, with Bob turning his head every two seconds to make sure Daphné wasn’t trying to escape again, while Typhaine practically fell asleep in his arms.

There weren’t enough beds for five people in the apartment suites however, and Jordana was already asleep when they got home. Bob quickly gathered some blankets and pieces of fabric which he arranged into a vague rectangular shape in the workshop, gesturing for Daphné to lie down. She sat down in the middle, apparently unsure of what she was supposed to do, and he closed the door in her face before she could ask any questions. Then he sighed.

“Good talk,” said a sleepy Typhaine who was now resting on his back, arms wrapped around his neck.

“Uh yeah sure.”

He led the short woman to Jordana’s room and placed her on the bed next to the singer, and tucked her in.

“Good night,” he whispered.

“Wait,” she whispered back. “I have something to say.”

“What is it?”

“You were right. About… the dreams in my head. I was lying to myself. I’m sorry.”

“Watcha even talkin ‘bout?” Bob asked in confusion.

“About Lucien,” she said very quietly.

Bob’s mouth suddenly felt dry. No matter how many times it occurred, he still could not bear to hear the name without feeling a strong wave of disgust overcoming him.

“Yer welcome. Sleep now.”

“Yes sir!”

Back into his own room, Bob found Ryoji lying down on the floor, arms spread out and gazing at the ceiling.

“What’s up?”

“I have a strange feeling,” Ryoji explained. “Like something extraordinary is going to happen tomorrow.”

“Even weirder than what’s jus’ happened ya mean?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow. I better get a good rest then.”

“Come here then.”

Bob raised an eyebrow.

“On the floor ya mean?”

“Sure. It’s nice to lie there.”

“...”

“Also I’m too tired to stand up and I don’t want to be alone in my misery.”

Bob laughed.

“Okay, in that case, guess I can join ya, silly sleepy bear.”

He removed the blanket from the bed and placed it on himself and Ryoji, making sure to stick his body to his boyfriend’s side.

“There. Best spot in the world, I’m sure. Who needs mattresses after all?”

“We got a rug, it’s decently thick.”

“Yeah, I’m sure our backs ain’t at all gonna hurt when we wake up tomorrow.”

“Maybe an aching back will be the least of our worries tomorrow,” Ryoji replied mysteriously.

“Yeah, uh, ya know what? Yer beginnin’ to scare me.”

Ryoji smiled faintly, then turned around to kiss Bob on the nose.

“Then give me a hug, old dog, and let’s forget about tomorrow for now. Us worrying about it won’t delay its arrival after all, will it?”

**

Typhaine woke up the next day to find Bob in a surprisingly good mood. Not only had he chosen to make breakfast for everyone (including Daphné), he had also cleaned the entire kitchen and restaurant all on his own while the others were asleep. He offered to carry Jordana down the stairs by himsel, whistling a merry tune as he did so. Once he made sure that she was properly seated, he even came back to bring her back the wheelchair that they had left on the upper floor.

“You’re certainly chipper today,” She noted suspiciously. “Anything happened?”

“Can’t a man jus’ smile for no reason at all?” Bob replied as he smiled, for no reason at all.

“Hm. I guess.”

Ryoji was the one who ended up providing the explanation a few minutes later.

“You know how he always calls me ‘silly bear’? I felt like I should have a pet name for him too, so I came up with ‘old dog’ yesterday. I didn’t expect it to have much of an effect on him, but he was positively _ecstatic_. Hadn’t seen him so cheerful in a while! It caught me by surprise, but I’m not complaining.”

“It’s pretty cute!” Typhaine chirped.

“It’s adorable,” Ryoji replied warmly, gazing at the kitchen where Bob was humming a different song as he poured orange juice into five glasses.

“I feel like I get him,” Jordana said pensively.

“Hm?” Ryoji asked. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, it’s just… I’m so on edge these days, from being mentally exhausted all the time. You can all relate, I suppose. But sometimes it has the unexpected benefit of making me extremely happy about very ordinary things. Just the other day, I was almost moved to tears because I felt like the way the wind carried the dead leaves was aesthetically pleasing.”

Ryoji smiled. Typhaine chuckled. She noticed that Daphné had entered the room and was staring at the three of them like they were the weirdest things she had ever laid her eyes upon. She did not feel offended, and simply got up from her bench to wave at the tall woman.

At some point, everybody had sat down and was eating. Someone else might have wondered how many days it had been, how many different breakfasts had been taken at this table and if the torture would ever end. But ever the mind wanderer, Typhaine was attempting to guess what type of flour Bob has used in his crêpes from the taste alone, then tried to imagine what the inside of a mill was like.

“What do you think the inside of a mill is like?” She asked out of nowhere.

But before she could get her reply, an alarm rang. That was unusual.

“There’s an alarm,” She said pointlessly.

“What’s happening?” Daphné asked in worry. “Is the building on fire?”

“Again?” Bob asked in clear annoyance. “I fuckin’ hope not.”

“What would be the point?” Jordana asked. “We’re all here, there’s no one to murder.”

“You…” Daphné began in horror. “You shouldn’t be speaking so casually about these things!”

Jordana shrugged. At this point, a voice came out from the speakers.

“Is this thing on? Oh. Right. Uh… hey there, students. You’re supposed to all go to the parking lot… uh… right about now. An important announcement is about to be made, so hurry up a bit.”

In a second, Typhaine was on her feet.

“This voice!” She shouted.

“Do you recognize it?” Jordana asked hurriedly.

“Not at all! This is definitely weird, right? Why isn’t Monoblade making the announcement this time?”

“And who is this person we just heard?” Ryoji reflected out loud.

“Oh, so _this_ is the thing that worries you the most,” Daphné said sarcastically. “Of course.”

“It’s prolly gonna be ‘bout the new motive,” Bob said dejectedly. “Le’s jus’ get this over with.”

**

There were no soldiers this time, and the helicopter was nowhere in sight. There were only two beings present: Monoblade the robot, and a man no one had ever seen before. Monoblade was dragging the man behind him by pulling his hair, careless of how much pain he could inflict him. The man himself looked little different than a corpse. He made no movement to protect his body that was being dragged through the dirt, plants and cobbles, nor did he attempt to free himself. He let out a single breath when Monoblade finally dropped him in front of the five remaining students, but did not say a word, nor tried to move on his own. There was no telling where he had come from - as far as the students knew, je could have very well fallen from the sky.

Despite this man’s strangeness, it was not he who attracted Typhaine's attention the most. There was something about Monoblade she found odd, though it was hard to pinpoint exactly what. Its facial features were exactly as they had always been (and Typhaine had seen the robot more than enough times to determine that with certainty), but she had a feeling, like it was a different robot somehow. After a moment, she understood why.

"You're so clean!" She heard herself blurting out. "Why is that?"

She registered that the others were staring at her with confusion, but it didn't matter to her at all. She wanted to understand what was going on, and that seemed like a good start.

"Who the hell is this _hombre?"_ Jordana asked as she pointed to the strange man on the ground.

"And why is there a TV there?" Bob asked almost at the same time.

Indeed, a table had been moved in the middle of the garden, right next to where everyone was standing, and a large TV screen had been placed on top of it. It was currently unlit, but a thick extension cord hung from the bottom of the screen, connecting it to something that was hidden inside the research facility.

"Be patient, won't you?" Monoblade said in clear annoyance. "Your questions will be answered once the download is finished."

Typhaine's eyes widened.

"That voice!" She shouted. “You’re the person from the announcement earlier!”

"Indeed,” the man replied. “Why is that relevant?”

“You’re not the real Monoblade,” Jordana accused dramatically. “No, you’re an _imposteur!”_

“Who are you?” Typhaine asked, pointing a finger at him. “What do you want from us?”

"I'm just an agent in this killing game," the fake Monoblade replied, sounding both annoyed and confused. "Are you always this dramatic?”

"That duzn’t matter,” Bob decided. “More importan’ly, where did the real Mono go? Is he like, dead?”

The impostor laughed.

"Of course not. He's right here."

He pointed to the tired-looking old man who was still lying down in the dirt.

"This dude is...?" Bob repeated. "F'real?"

Typhaine felt like the matter required an investigation. She left Bob and Jordana to talk with the fake Monoblade (or should it be "the new Monoblade"?) and crouched near the unconscious man.

 _He looks dead,_ was the thought that first occurred to her.

The man's hair was almost completely gray, his skin was like parchment. It seemed like he had not seen the light of day in weeks (which was probably the case), he was pale and thin, his skin clung to his bones tightly, like a piece of tired fabric stuck to a metal pole. Typhaine knew that Mr. Mercier was supposed to be Lisa's dad, but he looked like he could easily be her grandfather, so much that Typhaine wondered if they hadn't got the wrong guy somehow.

"My goodness is he okay?" She heard Daphné whisper close to her left ear.

"He's breathing at least," Typhaine replied as she touched the man' cheek gently.

"Are you sure? I didn't see you check his pulse."

"I can hear it," she replied naturally.

Daphné remained silent for a short while. She looked perplexed.

"I can't hear anything," she confessed.

"That's normal, you don't have mechanical ears! But you can trust me on this one."

Typhaine heard the fake Monoblade cough, and realized he was trying to get her attention. She noticed everyone was staring at her. Shrugging apologetically, she got back on her feet and placed her hands behind her back.

"I'm listening," she promised.

"As I was about to say, the download is done," the fake Monoblade explained. "Premier will explain the next motive to you, so pay attention."

_Premier? Do we know him?_

Typhaine noticed that Ryoji and Jordana were tensing up, but the name evoked nothing to her.

The TV screen lit up.

_Should we be expecting a Zoom meeting? That would be a first. And besides, the whole covid pandemic should be over by this point, so there's not much point in keeping distances anymore, is there? Maybe this Premier dude is a bit shy._

The screen was bright blue, displaying line after line of text and words that Typhaine didn't bother reading. It vaguely looked like coding, or perhaps intense math, she wasn't sure. A complex set of straight lines appeared at the center of the screen, forming a skull shape. Then pixel by pixel, colors and details were added to create the face of a man in 3D. He stood still for a moment, then began to move, as if he were trying out his new vessel. Premier was a man in his 50's, handsome despite a slight chubbiness that rounded his cheeks. Though there were speckles of gray in his beard, his hair remained a dull shade of brown, as did his eyebrows. His teeth were perfectly aligned, he seemed to have the same number of freckles on each cheek, which was disconcerting. In fact, his face was perfectly symmetrical (safe for his hair), which gave it a very uncanny feeling - but Typhaine wasn't observant enough to understand where the strange feeling was coming from.

 _This 3D model is so realistic!_ she thought in admiration. _Videogames didn't look so neat last time I checked._

"How-" Ryoji began, sounding horrified. "How... who...?"

"Holy shit," Bob whispered. "It's jus' like that picture ya showed me!"

"And the resemblance is striking," Jordana noted.

"What do you all mean?" Daphné asked in worry. "What's going on this time?"

"It's my dad," Ryoji replied in a hollow voice. "It's my _dad!"_ He repeated, this time a little louder, as the full meaning of his own words seemed to finally hit. "What the _fuck?"_

"It's just a 3D model," Typhaine commented casually. "Why are you all freaking out?"

The fake Monoblade laughed.

"Yeah, just a 3D model, good one. You hear that sir?"

"Perfectly clear Théo," Premier replied with a smile. "It seems like the setup is working perfectly. You will have to thank your team again for me, you all did an admirable job."

"Oh, no need to thank us, we just did what we were paid to do. By the way sir, is it okay if I leave now? I trust you can take over from here."

"That would be fine," Premier replied warmly. "And please Théo, call me by my first name. No need to be so formal! After all, we are all equals here, are we not?"

"Of course."

And just like that, the conversation ended. The man called Théo left, or so Typhaine could only believe. He left the robot behind, not bothering to put it back in its hiding space. It stood frozen next to Joseph's body, like a newly added statue.

Premier turned his attention back to the line of students.

"Now, I assume you all must have a lot of questions at this point. But if it is all right with you all, I would like to explain the motive first, because I believe it is quite important."

Typhaine and the others exchanged uncertain glances.

"Talk," Jordana said quietly.

Premier laughed.

"Straight to the point I see. So be it. My dear students, I have an important announcement to make: the killing game will soon come to an end. As such, the motive I am about to deliver will be the last, and all the survivors will soon be freed from this space."

Typhaine felt like her heart was suddenly beating twice as fast as usual. She could barely contain her excitement.

"No way!" She shouted. "Is this true?"

"Of course it is," Premier replied, closing his eyes. "And to celebrate this unique occasion, I have decided to add a new member to this killing game. He has been the tyrant and the executioner, but now he is just an ordinary participant like the rest of you."

Joseph let out a painful grunt as he attempted to get back up. Typhaine and Ryoji instinctively moved to help him get to his feet.

"Why?" Bob asked with a disgusted look toward Joseph. "We'd rather not have him around if we could avoid it, y'know."

Jordana narrowed her eyes.

"This is a test, isn't it?" She asked prudently. "You want to see if we'll try to take our revenge."

"Allow me to finish, please," Premier said calmly. "Indeed, Joseph's arrival comes with a new set of rules."

A pause.

"First of all, killing Joseph is the condition for bringing the killing game to an end."

_What?_

Typhaine suddenly the tired old man weighed ten times heavier on her arms. To think that she was touching the one who had executed all her friends was already enough to make her feel dirty, but now that Premier had painted a target on his back, it made her feel even weirder. Staring at Joseph in the eye, she found everything about him disgusting, from his long and dirty hair to his deeply buried gray eyes, his cracked lips, his clothes covered in dirt, his smell and even the sound of his breathing. Every inch of him was _wrong_ somehow, like a spelling mistake in a complex word or a coffee stain on an oil painting. It was such an intense reaction that she hastily dropped his arm and took a step back, feeling as if she had touched acid. Joseph let out a pitiful cry of surprise and nearly collapsed in Ryoji's arms.

"What is going on here?" Daphné cried in frustration. "This has to be a joke, right? We can't possibly kill someone, that's inhumane! You have to let us out of here!"

"Inhumane?" Premier repeated reflectively. "Interesting choice of words. However, I'm not finished yet."

"There's a catch, isn't there?" Jordana asked. "There always is."

"If one of you murders Joseph, the killing game will come to an end," Premier repeated, ignoring the interruption. "But an investigation will have to be led regardless, followed by a class trial. From then, the normal rules would apply."

"The normal rules," Ryoji repeated quietly. "Meaning that we'll have to vote for the culprit. And if we get it correct..."

"They shall be executed, yes," Premier continued. "Only at this price will the rest of you be freed."

"Yer as much of a disgustin' bastard as Mono was, ain'tcha?" Bob asked with a nervous grin. "Of course. Shoulda seen that one comin'."

"What if we get it wrong though?" Typhaine asked curiously.

"Then all but the culprit will be executed, as usual."

"And what if Joseph's not the victim?" Jordana asked severely.

"Then there will be no class trial at all, only a burial for the victim. The culprit will not be pursued or executed."

"So if I'm getting this right," Ryoji summarized softly, "this killing game will only end if one of us chooses to sacrifice themselves and Lisa's father. Only at the cost of two extra lives can this nightmare finally end."

All eyes fell on Daphné, which apparently made her uncomfortable.

"What are you all doing?" She asked nervously. "You're not getting any funny ideas, are you?"

"Depends," Jordana replied mysteriously. "Are you?”

"I'm not-" she began furiously. "How can you even insinuate-"

"You've done it before, when you were Magalie," Typhaine explained politely. "Attempted to sacrifice yourself I mean. It's a bit of a bad habit of yours."

Daphné let out a nervous laugh, then covered her eyes. Typhaine faintly heard her whispering _‘what the fuck’_ under her breath. However, Bob didn't seem to be paying attention to her.

"Whatever," he said in a tired voice. "Not like any o' this matters, right?"

"What do you mean?" Jordana asked curiously.

"We know it's jus' bullshit," he explained in a lazy voice. "Y'all remember what Roberta said, yeah? We're s'posed to all die in this thing. No way the killin' game ends, it has to be jus' 'nother lie."

"It is no lie," Premier affirmed politely. "The killing game will come to an end soon, provided you all follow our rules."

"Yeah yeah, we believe ya," Bob replied sarcastically. "Cuz we're just soooo dumb, ain't we?"

"I do not question your intelligence, mister Harding," Premier promised. "After all, our examinations revealed that you are not, in fact, any less intelligent than the average human. Your education has left you uncultured, it is true, but you are not stupid. None of you are."

Premier smiled, but there was something strange about it. To Typhaine, he was like a dog expecting a treat after bringing its owner his slippers, but all chewed up and torn. Cute and annoying at the same time, with a sense of _‘how do I explain to you how wrong you are, you stupid thing?’_

"... whut?" Bob eventually said, looking lost. "Thanks I guess?"

"You are welcome."

"Also like... why are ya still here? Can we turn you off?"

"I can turn myself off," Premier revealed. "But I thought you may have some questions for me still."

"Yeah we do," Jordana chuckled. "What in the world are you? Based on my recent findings, I thought you might be an AI, but that's obviously not true. AIs are never this perfect."

Premier smiled again - Typhaine realized he never stopped smiling in fact, but still managed to show some different facial expressions by moving his other face muscles. It was a little disturbing.

"Your original assumption was correct," he replied. "I am an AI. I wear the face of Lontano sorrentino, Ryoji's father, but this man has been dead for a while now. Knowing that, what else could I be?"

This time, it was on Ryoji that all eyes fell. He gulped.

"Wow, just laying it out there," he said in a tiny voice.

Carefully, almost absent-mindedly, he detached himself from Joseph as he took a step back, sniffling.

"I mean, my dad was never really good to me," he continued after a moment of silence. "But I could never be sure that he was _really_ dead, you know? I thought maybe, one day he'd come back, and we could start over..."

Bob moved silently, holding Ryoji's hand without saying a word.

"But I came back," Premier said in his usual polite tone, completely failing to read the room. "Ryoji, I may be only an AI, but I am everything your father once was. Everything that he knew, everything that he went through is part of my memory. In a sense, we are one and the same!"

"Shut up," Joseph mumbled angrily. "Don't lie to him, you bastard _."_

"Lie?" Premier repeated curiously. "I cannot lie."

No one seemed to know what to say to that. Ryoji had began to cry softly, hiding his face behind his hands. It didn’t last very long.

"I need a moment," he stated pointlessly. "Alone," he added for Bob's sake.

He turned around to walk away, then stopped in his tracks to look back at his friends, as if he had forgotten something. His face expressed cold determination and something that might very well be slight anger.

"But no one even _think_ of harming this man," he warned, pointing his finger at Joseph’s slender chest. "I know what he's done to us, but contain yourselves, got it? It's not worth it."

Shaking his head, Ryoji left the parking lot and entered the restaurant. Typhaine didn't know where he was going, but she suspected the graveyard or the beach.

"I was not done with my announcement," Premier warned, to no avail.

"Get on with it then," Bob ordered. "Then get outta here."

"Will you rely my word-"

"YES. We will. Now hurry up!"

"Fine. The rest is good news, actually. From now on, I will be your new game master, in place of Joseph. I will not be using the Monoblade units, but I can appear on any screen and will forever be delighted to answer your questions."

 _Forever?_ Typhaine thought.

"Furthermore, you will be delighted to hear that the repairs to the research facility are finally over! You are now free to use the building as much as you like."

"Is that all?" Bob asked impatiently.

"One last thing: you should all visit the AI room when you have the time. I believe you will like what you will find there. This has been all. Thank you for listening to me!" Premier concluded with what seemed like genuine happiness.

Typhaine noticed Bob and Jordana exchanging a worried glance.

"Ya think it's a trap?" Bob whispered.

"Don't think so," Jordana replied. "I'm really curious though. Can you carry me up there?"

"Sure," Bob replied without a second thought, picking her up like a bag of flour. "Le's go."

"Hold on, I want to go too!" Typhaine shouted in excitement.

"Course ya do," Bob said with a half-smile. "Come with us. Ya too, Daph."

"Why me?" Daphné asked worriedly. "I am perfectly fine with _not_ knowing what this is all about, you know.”

"We're not leaving you alone anymore," Jordana replied. "Get used to it."

"What about this guy?" Typhaine asked, pointing her thumb toward Joseph.

"Guess he's comin' too,” Bob replied. “Hopefully we'll find som' shackles for him upstairs. That should bring ya som' good memories, right Daph?"

"What?" She said in complete confusion. "Did I have Stockholm syndrome in my previous existence? Was I into BDSM?"

"BDS what?" Typhaine repeated curiously.

"That's a conversation for way later," Jordana decided. "Come on people, let's go."

It didn't take them long to reach the AI room, even though they had to make frequent stops in order for Joseph to catch his breath. It seemed like he hadn't climbed any stairs in a very long time. For some reason, Typhaine found it very pleasing to see him struggling. She wondered if it was a sin in itself, and if she should be doing something about it.

"Here we are!" Bob said as he kicked the door open.

But the AI room was just as they remembered, with row after row of machines, screens and keyboards, all silent.

"There's nothing," Typhaine said in disappointment.

"Did we jus' get pranked by a robot?" Daphné asked in disbelief.

"No, it's just that the power isn't on," Joseph explained. "The switch is here," he explained as he flicked a yellow switch embedded in the nearest wall.

A loud buzzing noise filled the room. It seemed to be coming from everywhere at once and got louder with every second. Typhaine briefly panicked, wondering if something was about to explode.

Joseph walked toward a row of computer screens, which he scrutinized intensely.

"Should be labels on these things... ah, here," he said in satisfaction, stopping in his tracks.

He was standing in front of a medium-sized screen, which looked exactly like all the other screens in the room. Typhaine came closer to inspect it, soon followed by the rest of the group.

"It's going to take a while," Joseph explained. "Because loading all the memory files is still a bit of a difficult task for those machines. Imagine if you had to put an entire human brain in a USB key."

"You like making jokes, don't you?" Daphné asked with a giggle. "If we could put brains in machines, that would be the key to achieving immortality. But there's no way something like that could ever be true! Right?”

Joseph didn't reply. Typhaine didn’t care about the answer anyway. Her focus was entirely set on the screen in front of her. She wanted to know what was going to happen. It was the same thing as before, with thin lines that formed a human skull shape, before all the colors were added in, along with shades and textures. This time, it was a young adult with green hair and a bowl cut. He didn’t look surprised in the slightest.

"Oh," the computer said. "You're all here! It's so great to see you guys again. I really missed you all!"

The face frowned as it met Joseph’s gaze.

"Well, maybe not _all_ of you," it corrected playfully.

Joseph smiled, then chuckled as he tried to hide his face with his hands. He seemed to be crying a little at the same time, though Typhaine wasn’t sure.

"This is awkward," he commented nervously. "Never expected to be in the same room as one of the people I murdered."

"And why would you?" Sébastien asked with a grin. "And yet here we are. This promises to be entertaining."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Theories? Ideas? Critics? Feel free to share in the comments! We're getting close to the end, and I wouldn't want the quality to drop


	73. Changes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a shorter chapter, but it felt right to end it there. Hope you folks enjoy it!

"No."

That's how it started - with a violent rejection of reality. Bob looked at the face on the screen with muted anger, perhaps hoping to find a flaw on the design. A missing pixel, a coloring error, a glitch, anything to comfort him in his assumption that this was all another lie. He hated lies after all, an excuse to hate this new AI project would be more than welcome.

"I feel like I'm going to sound like a fool for asking," Daphné began uncertainly. "But who is this person? And why do you all look so upset?"

"Uh..." Typhaine began.

But she didn't seem like she was capable of answering. Unlike Bob who glared at Sébastien's face in anger, her gaze evoked utter disbelief. She had been lifting her hand to adjust her cap, but now it stood frozen in mid air, as if she had completely forgotten what she had been trying to do.

"Wow Magalie, you wound me," Sébastien pouted. "I know it's been a while, but I hoped you would remember me. We got along pretty well back in the days, didn't we? That's what my memory files stipulate after all."

"Uh," was all Daphné could reply. Then she said: "I'm not Magalie."

"Oh? Strange, you look just like her. Perhaps there's something wrong with my visionary sensors? Who are you?"

"My name is Daphné."

"Daphné... give me a moment. Let's see if I know you... no, no Daphné in my memory bank. It looks like we're meeting for the first time! Well, good day to you Daphné. I hope we get along."

"Wow," Daphné whispered. "First person to accept my identity without question, and it's a robot!"

"What is the meaning of this?" Jordana snapped, having just emerged from her dazed state. "Is this some kind of sick joke?"

She punched Joseph in the shoulder to make him understand that he was the one she expected a reply from.

"Ouch," the man mumbled. "No, this isn't a joke. What you have in front of you is the result of years of intense research from the very best scientists in the GTU."

"That's me," Sébastien said proudly. "Pretty impressive, huh?"

"But you're dead," Typhaine said stupidly. "We saw you getting pierced by arrows, over and over again! How can you be here, how can you talk to us like nothing's wrong? Was the video fake?"

"It wasn't," Joseph said through gritted teeth.

"Quite unfortunately, no," Sébastien said, adjusting his virtual glasses with a virtual hand. "The human subject Sébastien Rive, ultimate bowman, was terminated more than a month ago, and can never be revived. I am everything that remains from him: his face, his memories, the skills he learned and the people he met, all that could be salvaged and compiled. I am his soul if you want, with only a few minor gaps here and there, when the information was lost. I bet you wouldn't be able to tell the difference though! And thus they called me Sébastien, and Sébastien was brought back to life. I don't have a body yet, because the robot vessels are still being tested, but when that's over I will finally be complete."

A moment of silence welcomed the AI's troubling speech. Daphné was the first one to break it.

"He does sound really human," she commented. "I have a hard time believing this is just an AI."

"This is so exciting!" Typhaine shouted. "What happens if we turn on the other computers? Can we speak to all of our other friends again?"

Jordana flinched while Bob shivered. Both felt like they had been kicked in the belly. It was very hard to think clearly in a situation like this, to keep some reasonable doubt when the mind was overflowing with hope.

"Lisa," Bob wailed. "Ya mean I could hear her voice again? And Becca, Gwenn and Flo..."

"Maybe I could apologize to Rebecca," Jordana mumbled. "Even if it's all fake, it would feel nice. Maybe Suzie too, and Alexander obviously. There are so many people I hurt..."

"Don't get your hopes too high," Joseph cut in sharply.

"The others are all works in progress," Sébastien explained. "As you might guess, compiling all the info that's needed to make a fully functional AI takes time. For now, I'm the only one you can talk to, but that will change! I was told Roberta would be available soon, for instance. And we should be expecting Alexander by February."

Joseph laughed.

"I will probably be dead by then. You mind telling me how it feels, Seb? The thought terrifies me."

"I have no answer to provide for now," Sébastien replied, and for the first time it sounded like an automatic sentence a normal AI might tell as a response to an unknown query.

It was a little off-putting.

"Well, at any rate, it's very nice to be able to speak to you again, Seb!" Typhaine said conversationally. "We never had that much time to talk before, so it's the perfect opportunity to learn more about you!"

"Sure thing, I'm down for whatever you have in mind," Sébastien replied.

"Uh," Daphné said hesitantly. "I feel like I'm missing something."

"What do you mean?" Typhaine asked.

"This... shouldn't be possible, should it?" Daphné asked, arms folded. "I mean, I don't remember much from my old life, but I'm pretty sure AI technologies shouldn't be this advanced. This has to be some kind of trick, right? Like a real person talking behind the screen. Are you sure this Sébastien guy is really dead?"

"I'm positive," Joseph replied neutrally. "Makes sense you'd have trouble believing though. Like seriously," he added as he stared directly at Typhaine, "how are you so okay with this?"

"Eh? Why do you ask me? I'm the dumb one."

"Nah, don't give me that crap, kid. This thing is an _artificially recreated conscience,_ that happens to belong to one of your dead classmates, and the people who built it are the ones who also tried to kill you all. That doesn't make you feel anything? You don't have _any questions at all?"_

"I..."

Typhaine looked puzzled.

"Give her a moment, it's probably a lot to take in," Daphné said defensively.

"He's right though," Typhaine admitted. "I have no idea how to feel about... any of that."

"Hey, hey, it's all cool, you know," Sébastien said while (somehow) yawning. "Don't overthink this, just go with the flow. I'm here, so what? It's crazy for sure, but isn't it nice?"

"Shut up," Bob snarled. "Ya shouldn't even exist. Yer jus' another lie, ain'tcha?"

"Do I sound like a lie?" Sébastien asked curiously. "Oh hey, we can play that game! I could tell you something only Sébastien knows. That way you'd be sure it's no trick!"

"But we barely know anything about you," Typhaine objected. "You could tell us the exact color of the wallpaper in the bedroom you had as a baby, or what your first teddy bear was called, and it would mean nothing to us!"

Sébastien deflated.

"Right, that's a good point." (He shrugged). "Oh well. _C'est la vie._ I guess you'll just have to deal with it."

"Like hell we will," Bob snapped. "We're never comin' back here, tha's for damn sure."

"What?" Typhaine said.

"Why?" Daphné echoed, almost at the same time.

"Huh?" Sébastien said, eyebrows raised in surprise. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Dun't be dum'," Bob said in a tired voice. "Everythin' so far has been a trap, jus' another way to force us to kill each other. This is prolly no different."

"I don't understand," Sébastien admitted. "Earlier, you sounded eager to speak to Lisa again, so-"

"C'mon Daph, we're outta here," Bob said brusquely. "Got som' shackles to find for this dude." (He planted his thumb in Joseph's chest, making the man wince). "Dun't forget he's killed five of us already."

"Sure, but why do you need me to come?" Daphné asked, sounding puzzled.

"It's not that I _need_ ya, dummy. I dun't trust ya, remember? So I ain't leavin' ya alone. Get used to it."

He left the room without a final glance at the screen, dragging Joseph with him and pushing Daphné forward. Jordana and Typhaine found themselves alone with the AI.

"Well," Typhaine said. "That was a lot."

She turned toward Jordana, who remained seated on her wheelchair, looking lost.

"Wait, Bob just left you behind!" She noticed. "And I'm not strong enough to carry you down the stairs. That means you're stuck here!"

"... right," Jordana replied distantly. "Hadn't thought about that."

Typhaine went to place herself directly in front of the taller woman's chair, forcing her to pay attention to her.

"What?" Jordana asked.

"You're upset," Typhaine observed. "You've been fiddling with that ribbon for five whole minutes now. What's up?"

Jordana sighed.

"It's annoying being stuck with people who know you too well. Nothing escapes them. Fine. Guess you're right... I don't know what to think of all of this either."

"You said something about apologies earlier," Sébastien provided in a matter-of-a-fact voice.

Jordana frowned.

"Is there a 'mute' button on this thing?" She asked nonchalantly.

"Wow, rude," Sébastien replied with a pout.

"He's right though," Typhaine noted. "Is this what it's all about? Apologizing to our dead friends?"

"Wouldn't it be nice?" Jordana replied with a dreamy far-off look. "I hurt so many of us. I pushed Alexander to murder, I attacked Suzie on her insecurities, played with Ferdinand's feelings, and of course there's Rebecca... imagine if I could see them again. Just once. Tell them how I truly feel, apologize for how much I've hurt them. And maybe start over from here..."

"But you can't," Typhaine cut in sharply.

Jordana looked annoyed.

"One can dream, Typh'."

"But that's just irresponsible, isn't it? Even if they make an AI of Alexander, Suzie, Rebecca and Ferdie, that won't change how much you hurt them in the past. They're not the same people!"

"I know, I know," Jordana replied in frustration. "But what can I do? Speaking to their graves never brought me any peace of mind."

Typhaine folded her arms, which was such an unusual demeanor for her that Jordana found herself surprised. The shorter woman’s face was scrunched in annoyance, though Jordana had no idea why.

“What is it?” She asked, sounding irritated. “What did I say this time?”

“Oh it’s just… I find it funny how you spent so much time telling the graves you were sorry, but I never heard the word from you even once.”

**

The shovel went through the ground, once, twice, thrice. What came after thrice? Frice? Ryoji wasn’t sure. It had only been five minutes, but the patch of dirt he had been attacking was showing some hefty resistance. The dirt was dry and tough, it was a true wonder that plants even managed to grow in this area.

Well, that wasn’t true. Ryoji had seen some flowers growing through the cracks in the sidewalk, back home. And if moss could grow on the rusty pipes in the very poorly lit sewers, then it showed how powerful nature could be, given enough time.

_Plants are resilient. Just like us._

His hands were getting sweaty. In fact, his entire body was. Ryoji was beginning to find himself a little stupid.

_That’s bullshit. ‘What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger?’ This game didn’t kill me yet, but I certainly don’t feel any stronger. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever felt so weak in my entire life._

It was getting cold, but Ryoji had never minded. The air was heavy and moist, announcing rain. Was it going to help matters, or make them worse? Ryoji wasn’t sure. Whatever happened, he had to go through his task until it was finished.

“This is going to take forever, isn’t it?” He asked the tall trees that surrounded the graveyard. “Maybe I’m just not the right man for this job.”

Putting the shovel aside, Ryoji decided that he was ready to rejoin the others. But when he found the restaurant empty, it occurred to him that he had no idea where they had gone to.

“Hey Mono, do you mind… oh.”

_Guess I’m on my own for once._

Finding out that the research facility had been repaired made Ryoji feel strange. He tried to ignore the ghosts he saw running around the halls. There was hardly a day where he didn’t hallucinate about his dead friends, lately. Once he had actually tried to talk to one of the hallucinations, which had terrified Bob so bad he had had to lie down for an hour afterwards.

“Are you looking for someone?” Premier asked politely.

Ryoji turned his head to the right. There was now a TV screen on the wall next to the stairway. It must have come with the repairs, he assumed.

“Yeah, my friends,” he replied distantly. “And mister Mercier I guess.”

“You will find them in the AI room.”

“Thanks.”

“It’s always a pleasure to help you, Ryoji.”

_Please don’t say that._

In the AI room, Jordana and Typhaine were arguing about something. Bob, Daphné and Joseph were standing near the opposite door, apparently all listening to the conversation, though none of them seemed like they were going to join. Typhaine interrupted herself when she noticed Ryoji entering.

“Ah, Ryo, you have to help us! Bob abandoned us to go fetch something on the 3rd floor and now Jordana is stuck!”

“I’m standin’ right here,” Bob countered, finally jumping into the conversation.

“Are you all right kiddo?” Joseph asked Ryoji worriedly. “You look like you’ve been crying.”

“Why are his knees caked in dust?” Daphné askd, apparently to herself.

“Oh hey it’s Ryoji!” Sébastien said with a wave of the hand. “I knew someone was missing!”

Ryoji forced himself to blink several times, then rubbed his eyes thoroughly, apparently in disbelief.

“Am I hallucinating again?” He asked uncertainly. “Because I’m definitely seeing someone I’m not supposed to see.”

“He has hallucinations?” Daphné asked herself. “That’s probably bad, he should see a doctor.”

“It’s no illusion kiddo,” Joseph explained. “They turned Seb into an AI. I know, it’s crazy.”

“Who allowed ya to speak?” Bob asked rudely. “Anyway, the bastard’s right. They put Seb in the screen, tho it’s prolly just another lie.”

Ryoji stared at the screen silently for ten whole seconds. His upper lip was trembling slightly. But when the others expected him to burst into tears, he suddenly shook his head.

“Later,” he said to himself. “Later.” (He opened his eyes). “I need some help in the graveyard, can someone come with me?”

“Of course,” Bob replied right away. “What’dja want?”

“I need to dig a hole,” Ryoji replied mysteriously. “I’m also taking Joseph,” he added in a voice that didn’t leave room for any objections.

“You want to make me dig?” Joseph asked in a voice that was so desperate it sounded almost comical. “But you can’t,” he pleaded. “I’m in shackles.”

“And he’s probably going to collapse if you make him do any sort of physical effort,” Jordana pointed out, sounding amused. “Not that any of us would mind, you know. But it’d be a shame if he ended up dying, what with the ensuing trial and all.”

“He doesn’t necessarily have to help,” Ryoji reflected. “He just needs to be there.”

“But what do you need this hole for anyway?” Sébastien asked curiously.

“Thank goodness, I thought nobody was going to ask!” Daphné said in relief.

Ryoji looked at his feet.

“They added a new grave in the graveyard,” he explained quietly. “It’s for my dad. I know this may seem weird to some of you, but I have to know if he’s really dead or not. I’ve been lied to so many times, so maybe…”

Jordana tilted her head forwards.

“In other words, you want to inspect a corpse,” she stated conversationally.

Ryoji nodded.

“You want to _what-”_ Daphné said in astonishment.

“Are you even allowed to do that?” Typhaine asked in horror.

“I hope so,” Ryoji replied meekly.

“You want me to dig out a corpse,” Bob said in disbelief. “And I thought this day couldn’t get any weirder!”

“How are you so okay with this?” Daphné asked in confusion.

“It’s certainly not the most romantic of requests, but Bob is such a hardcore lover, he can’t say no to his sugar bear,” Jordana chanted.

“Ya bet I am!” Bob replied energetically. “Le’s go right now!”

“Oh, you two are dating?” Sébastien asked curiously. “Funny, they never told me. Congrats, I guess.”

**

Bob brought Daphné with him, to keep an eye on her. They ended up doing most of the work by themselves. As it turned out, Joseph was both starved and dehydrated, and it soon became impossible for him to do something as simple as standing by as the three students dug through the earth in the graveyard. He didn’t dare complain about his situation, but soon Ryoji noticed that the man was about to faint, and decided to do something about it. He spent the following hour cooking for Joseph, feeding him, then forced him to have a shower and found him some new clothes.

_It’s like having to take care of a baby. Can he even do anything by himself?_

If Joseph remembered how to take care of himself properly, he wasn’t showing it. At times he looked sharp and alert, if only somewhat physically weakened; but sometimes he would mutter to himself incomprehensible things, would show terror at the slightest movement, or would simply not respond to any question that was directed at him. He’d stand up and walk, his eyes glassy and unfocused, like an empty shell of a man. When Ryoji came back to the graveyard, Joseph was clinging to his body tightly, shaking in fright, muttering something incomprehensible about broken bones.

“Shit, wha’ happened to him all of a second?” Bob asked, brushing the sweat off his forehead.

“He’s been like that for a while,” Ryoji explained anxiously. “He’s quite unstable actually, which… well, we should have expected, right? It’s going to be tough work watching over him.”

Bob looked disgusted.

“Yeah, that’s… super freaky actually. Ima be honest, I dun’t like this. I dun’t like ya stickin’ with this psycho. What if he becomes dangerous? _I_ should be the one lookin’ after ‘im.”

“No, I’ll do it,” Ryoji said quietly.

“Uh, if I may,” Daphné interrupted timidly.

She looked exhausted but satisfied with herself.

“What is it?” Ryoji asked.

“I hit something with my shovel,” she explained with a smile. “I think it was the coffin. We’re almost there!”

It took fifteen minutes to unearth the actual coffin. For a while, Ryoji feared that it might be empty, but the smell that permeated through the tiny gaps between the door and the walls said otherwise. For a while, no one dared actually opening it. The four individuals simply stood there, all silently hoping that one of them would eventually take the lead. Bob ran out of patience first. He curses under his breath, closed his eyes, and opened the coffin swiftly.

“Good Lord,” Daphné wailed.

“No no no no no, I don’t want to see,” Joseph whimpered, hiding his eyes with Ryoji’s arms.

“Is it really him?” Bob asked quietly. “Yer old man?”

Ryoji remained silent.

_I don’t know what I expected._

“Yes,” he replied eventually.

“But how can you tell?” Daphné asked in shock. “It’s… uh…”

“It’s been ten years,” Bob completed for her. “Figures he’d look worse ‘n a zombie by now.”

“I know,” Ryoji replied. “But it’s him, I’m certain. Those eyes…”

Lontano Sorrentino had extremely pale gray eyes. Even in death, they carried a certain power, a cold and distinctive energy that took Ryoji back to his childhood. Not that he had had many occasions to stare at his father in the eyes, but he remembered one occasion in particular. He had been eight years old at the time: his father was home for the weekend, a rarity. Ryoji remembered sitting in the grass, trying to read a book. His dad and elder brother were playing nearby, so loudly that Ryoji couldn’t even understand what he was reading.

It shouldn’t have mattered. Eight years old Ryoji was quite used to being mistreated, and knew that sticking up for himself rarely yielded any kind of results. Any other day, he would have simply gotten up and moved somewhere else, silent as a shadow, hoping to not be noticed. Yet he felt a little braver that day, or perhaps had simply been too tired to care. So instead of leaving, he confronted his father, and asked:

“You don’t really like me, do you?”

His dad had stared at him in the eyes, and Ryoji had felt as if he had been struck. Because perhaps for the first time ever, Lontano seemed to have finally _noticed_ him, and acknowledged him as a human being. Maybe he had simply been amused by the boldness of the question; at the very least he had shown interest in his younger son.

Still, it didn’t last. Lontano quickly diverted his attention back to his other child, not even bothering to reply. Perhaps that was why the memory had been burned in Ryoji’s memory so clearly. Because it had been humiliating.

“I’ll never get my reply at this rate,” Ryoji muttered to himself, so low that no one could pick up on his words.

 _Unless you ask Premier,_ a strange voice in his mind suggested.


	74. Captives, Games and Clovers

There are some words that you don’t want to hear. It might be your favorite teacher saying “see me after class”, or your romantic partner saying “we need to talk”; some simple phrases carry a sense of dread and general unpleasantness that is rather hard to shake off.

Ryoji had been walking Joseph to his bedroom when one of the monitors in the elevator room has suddenly lit up, showing Premier’s face.

“Oh look who it is,” Joseph mumbled grumpily. “The bearer of good news.”

“Good evening Ryoji,” Premier said politely, ignoring Joseph’s words. “I hope I am not bothering you.”

“What is it?” Ryoji asked, careful not to answer the question.

“I feel the need to speak with you in private,” Premier explained. “Would you mind sparing me a moment, one of those days? I believe half an hour of your time would be more than sufficient.”

Joseph crinkled his nose.

“That offer reeks. Say no, Ryoji.”

“Can I really afford to?” Ryoji pondered out loud.

“You are allowed to deny my offer, yes,” Premier said with a slight bow of the head.

“See?” Joseph asked. “That my boy, is because AIs have to be always polite and shit. It’s in their code somewhere. Don’t ask me why, just take your chance and say no.”

“I’ll think about it,” Ryoji replied instead.

“I am simply delighted to hear it,” Premier beamed. “I hope we will talk again soon.”

The screen turned off.

“Why the hell did you say that?” Joseph asked in worry. “I’m telling you, this is bad news for you! Reject him for as long as you dare!”

“Who is he to you?” Ryoji asked softly. “For how long did you know about Premier’s existence?”

Joseph blinked in shock.

“Ah, uh… he’s sorta… been my boss for a while now.”

“A while?” Ryoji repeated. “How long precisely?”

“It’s uh… hard to say,” Joseph explained embarrassingly. “See, there were a lot of people coming and going on my end, government operatives and the likes, sometimes the faces become a bit of a blur y’know? Hard to tell who you’re getting orders from.”

“I expect a CGI face talking from a screen would attract a decent lot of attention though,” Ryoji said calmly. “Unless there were multiple AIs at work naturally.”

“There were a few actually. None as important as him though.”

“Not as important?”

“Not as… polished, if you want. A bit rougher around the edges.”

“Prototypes?” Ryoji suggested.

“Maybe. Truth is, this AI research has been going on for a while, Premier’s just the first real success they’ve had at replicating a human.”

“Hence the name I assume,” Ryoji said with a nod. _“Premier,_ the first one.”

“Yeah, you got it.”

“So answer my question, won’t you? For how long has he been your boss?”

“I tell you, it’s hard to say!” Joseph muttered in frustration.

“How can it be hard to say?”

“Well uh… oh, how do I explain this?”

They had entered room 104, Joseph had sat on one of the beds and was rubbing his temples.

“Thing is… at first they let me believe I was running this show. They let me make up the rules, kill whoever I wanted, I could go pretty much anywhere in the extended facility. I thought I was the boss and all the help were just under my orders, see? It’s only after a little while, when I felt I had finally settled, that I started noticing strange things. Doors that would stay closed, people with a higher authority than mine, and more and more frequent visits from the military. Eventually they started giving _me_ orders, and like, when they point a gun at your head, what can you do?”

“What about Premier?” Ryoji asked quietly. “Was he already in charge?”

“Uh… he was already _around_ , for sure,” Joseph replied hesitantly. “Strange thing, it seems he only started gaining power after a while. But it’s hard to say exactly _when_ , because it happened quite smoothly. At first, he was just sorta _there_ , like some kind of freak show for everyone’s entertainment. Then he started asking questions, and at some point I saw people asking _him_ questions. That’s when I knew something was up.”

“But when was it made official?” Ryoji asked stubbornly.

“That’s the thing, kiddo, it never was. Not in front of me anyway.”

“But his authority…”

“Is unquestionable. I don’t know much, but that I know for sure. And it’s not just in this place either. Premier is a big name worldwide now, and his power is only growing.”

Ryoji stood still in silence.

“Premier is the real master of the killing game,” he eventually stated, flatly.

“Uh, yes.”

“But we were lead to believe that it was the French government,” Ryoji reminded him. “That’s what Roberta said in her diary, right? Unless it was fake after all? Because I don’t recall an AI being part of our government.”

Joseph was looking at his feet.

“You shouldn’t be allowed to lie to us,” Ryoji continued. “So why did you?”

“I didn’t lie,” Joseph promised.

“No?”

“Not _technically_ , no”.

“Ah. There it is.”

“The diary is not a fake. Everything that it said was true… for a while. Things have changed. Premier basically took over at this point.”

Ryoji raised both eyebrows.

“But why would they put an AI in charge? It doesn’t make sense.”

“Burn me, I have no fucking clue. From what I gathered, Premier is now more powerful than the government itself, which is…”

“Insane?” Ryoji suggested.

“Yeah.”

Ryoji shrugged.

“Seems like our world has caught a fatal disease. Nothing is really working right anymore. We’ve had an artificial pandemic, several killing games, a world war. Why not have an AI as the leader of our country? It doesn’t seem so crazy anymore.”

Joseph shook his head.

“Please, don’t be like that kiddo. Don’t come at me with that attitude. It’s not cuz the world is full of shit that you have to stop fighting. Premier is an asshole and he doesn’t deserve to be in power. Period.”

“Odd words, coming from you,” Ryoji noticed with a half-smile. “Never thought a serial murderer would give me life advice.”

Joseph looked pained. The wrinkles around his eyes dug deeper through his skin, like crevices.

“I know,” he said in a low voice. “I’m full of shit too, and I have no right to say none of this. I’m just a crazy bastard, and I deserve to die for what I did. I should probably shut up and go to sleep.”

“You don’t deserve to die,” Ryoji replied firmly. “No one does.”

Joseph looked shocked for a brief moment. He then laughed, though it sounded almost like a bark.

“Even after all you’ve been through, you’re still saying that? Sincerely?”

“I don’t hate you. Your death wouldn’t bring me any joy, or any peace of mind for that matter.”

“Hold on,” Joseph said in an almost worried tone. “Why do you say that you don’t hate me?”

“I just don’t.”

“Ryoji, I ki-”

He nearly bit his tongue. The word seemed hard to formulate.

“I killed your friends.” He said through a cough, as if each word was a rake dragged against his vocal cords.

“You’re a monster,” Ryoji replied calmly. “Just thinking of you used to fill me with terror, rage, sometimes both. I won’t lie, I fantasized about killing and torturing you more than once. At night, when I couldn’t sleep because I was shaking in fear, thinking someone might try to kill me, I tried to focus on how much I hated you, because only that sentiment could keep the fear at bay.”

He sat on his bed heavily.

“But it’s over now. I don’t know why, and I honestly don’t really care. So I’m going to lock you up in this room, then go sleep somewhere else. Good night.”

Joseph began to shake.

“You’re going to leave me alone?”

“Yes.”

“Please, don’t leave,” Joseph begged. “I don’t want to be alone here.”

Ryoji ignored him. He got up from the bed and left. The last sound he heard was a muffled sob as he shut the door tightly, turning the key in the hole to lock it. Then it was silence.

 _Oh right, high quality soundproofing. He can yell and cry as much as he wants, and I won’t even hear a thing._ _Charming._ _Is this what this room was designed for_ _originally?_

Sighing deeply, Ryoji rested his back against the door, closing his eyes. He heard the sound of footsteps coming toward him. He didn’t have to open his eyes to identify their owners.

“Hey Ryo, ya okay?” Bob asked worriedly.

“You look a little pale,” Daphné added.

“I’m just tired,” he said, which wasn’t really a lie. “Taking care of Joseph is exhausting.”

“Ya dun’t have to do it all by yerself, ya know,” Bob reminded him.

“Yes I do,” Ryoji insisted. “I want to do this myself. I need to protect him, so I can protect all of us.”

Bob crouched in front of Ryoji, adjusting his hair.

“Yer hopin’ he commits suicide before one of us has a chance to stick a knife thru him, yeah?”

Ryoji’s eyes shot wide in shock.

“What?”

“Did you just… did I hear you correctly?” Daphné asked, apparently similarly surprised.

“C’mon, ya know it’s the only way,” Bob reasoned. “We can’t lose ‘nother of us, even if it means endin’ the killin’ game. And did ya even _see_ the man? He looks half-dead already. I reckon it wun’t take long.”

Ryoji was so shocked, he found himself at loss for words.

“But Bob-” he began.

“Oh c’mon. Dun’t tell me ya’d feel sorry for the guy! Remember what he did, remember who he _is.”_

“ _No one_ deserves to die,” Ryoji objected stubbornly.

Bob looked at him in the eyes with a curious expression. It seems as if he too were trying to detect lies, or perhaps he was just impressed.

“Ya really believe that?”

“That’s the second time I’ve been asked this question tonight, and the answer is still yes.”

Bob sat on the floor in front of Ryoji and sighed, shoulders slumped.

“Yer clearly made o’ sturdier stuff than me then, cuz I dun’t have it in me to agree with ya. Can’t say I’d be mad if the old dude kicked the bucket, nope. It’d be one less problem to worry about, and ya know we got plenty.”

“You don’t have to agree with me,” Ryoji said softly. “But I admit I was shocked to hear you sound so calculating. It’s not like you at all.”

“I gave it sum’ thought, and it seemed like the best thing that could happen to us at this point. If the circumstances had been different, I dunno, but we’ve lost so much that we can’t afford to be picky about our luck.”

Ryoji rubbed his eyes.

“I don’t want to think about it.”

Bob smiled tiredly.

“Of course ya wouldn’t. Sorry silly bear. C’mon, le’s go get sum’ rest.”

“Not yet. I still need to have a talk with…”

Ryoji frowned.

_I can’t tell him that I’m going to have a talk with Premier or he’ll worry again. Shit, I have to lie, but what should I say?_

“A talk?” Bob asked. “With who?”

“Sébastien,” Ryoji lied.

“The AI?” Daphné asked. “Why would you need to talk with it for?”

“Yeah, and especially so late,” Bob added suspiciously.

“The time doesn’t matter,” Ryoji replied, once again careful to avoid the most important question. “I’ll go right now in fact.”

He got up. Bob looked somewhat disappointed.

“’Kay then. Seeya later I guess?”

Ryoji kissed him on the forehead before leaving.

“Indeed. Have a good night, old dog.”

Bob beamed, but Ryoji barely paid attention to it. Lying to his boyfriend left a horrible feeling in his chest, as is a hot iron had been pressed against his skin. He let his footsteps guide him up the stairs that led to the AI room.

_I guess it’s not really a lie if I actually go and have a word with Sébastien. Maybe I could find something to ask him, anything would do._

The lights were flickering in the AI room, giving it a strange and eerie vibe. Ryoji could faintly hear the wind howling outside, shaking the building’s structure slightly. All the screens were off, safe for Sébastien’s. To Ryoji’s surprise, the AI wasn’t alone. Typhaine was sitting on one of the office chairs, cradling a big teddy bear and resting her arms on the keyboard in front of her. She and Sébastien were apparently chatting.

“Did you need something?” Sébastien was asking politely. “You look rather sleepy.”

“I came to visit you,” Typhaine replied through a yawn. “Before I go to bed, so I could see how you were doing.”

 _Why_ _is she_ _chatting with a robot?_ Ryoji asked himself. _She should_ _know this isn’t the real Sébastien._

“Oh really?” Sébastien asked in surprise. “That’s rather sweet of you. Because I’ll be honest with you, I was beginning to feel bored here.”

“Bored?” Typhaine repeated. “I didn’t know AIs could get bored.”

“I suppose it may seem a bit weird, but that’s just how it is. I’m Sébastien, and Sébastien can feel boredom, what more can I say?”

“Seems like a pretty big inconvenience honestly.”

“Well sure. But if I didn’t have all these human traits, I would just be a very smart machine, and what’s the interest in that?”

“You’d be like a big fancy laptop,” Typhaine chuckled. “A big laptop that can chat with you when you’re bored!”

Sébastien laughed with her.

“Exactly. Without those human traits, us AIs wouldn’t be worth more than your average oven.”

“You’re good at being an oven though,” Typhaine joked. “It’s really warm in this room!” She added while fanning herself with her cap.

“True, those poor computers are working overtime, keeping me running day to day. I hope they don’t overload.”

“That can happen?”

“So I’ve been told. That’s why they had to remake this room, but even with the updated cable system, it looks like it’s a bit too much power for these old machines. Friendly advice, don’t plug anything in this room if you don’t want to cause a blackout.”

Typhaine’s eyes widened.

“I’ll keep it in mind!” she promised.

For a short while, the conversation ended, which gave Ryoji an opportunity to realize he was eavesdropping. Or did it really count as eavesdropping? He was standing awkwardly near the entrance, but neither Typhaine nor Sébastien seemed to have noticed him. Since he wasn’t trying to hide, could he truly be blamed?

_What should I do? Should I just leave? Should I say hi? Why is this so complicated?_

“So how do you keep busy?” Typhaine eventually asked, derailing Ryoji’s anxious train of thoughts.

Sébastien appeared to be shrugging, though it was hard to say, since his arms weren’t visible on the screen.

“Not much, to be honest. It’s hard to keep busy when you don’t have a body. I write little stories in my head, I try to answer complex philosophical questions, or solve mathematical equations. If only I had a book to read or something! But I would need someone to flick the pages for me. It’s quite the bummer, honestly.”

“That sounds horrible,” Typhaine replied empathically. “When do you think the robot bodies will be completed?”

“Not sure. From what I’ve heard, it’s not a question of functionality; plenty of very efficient robots have been built already. But the technicians don’t know how to incorporate the AI’s brains inside without stressing out the rest of the machinery too much. Batteries are also a problem it seems, so I’ll probably be waiting a while.”

“I imagine it will be weird when you can finally possess you own body, after living without one for so long. It will take a lot of learning, right?”

“Oh, not at all. I could take control of any type of machine, provided you plugged me to it. It’s not a challenge for us AIs.”

“You could possess _any_ machine?” Typhaine asked in surprise. “Even say, a vacuum cleaner?”

Sébastien sighed.

“Yes, even a vacuum, though I imagine that wouldn’t be the most entertaining experience ever. Give me a laptop, a tablet, a phone, _now_ we’re talking. We could have a lot of fun with that.”

Typhaine’s eyes went to the ceiling.

“There’s a factory up there, with assembly lines for building machines. It’s a little big, but do you think you could take control of it?”

“Without a doubt, as long as you connect my main source to any part of the machine.”

His expression changed, he half-smiled while gazing in the distance dreamily.

“I could control the whole thing. As long as it’s all connected, I could project myself everywhere. The tools would become my limbs.”

“You could have fun with it,” Typhaine reflected. “Build lots of stuff!”

“Oh definitely. With enough scrap materials, I could build little objects. Nothing too crazy, but it’d pass time.”

“We’ll see what we can do for you then,” Typhaine replied.

She yawned once again. Ryoji was fidgeting uncomfortably. He wanted to leave, but was afraid to be overheard. Before he could decide what to do, a voice rang from behind him.

“Hey there!”

Ryoji jumped. Jordana was right behind him, looking as devious as usual.

“Jordana!” He shouted in surprise. “What are you- wait, how did you come all the way here? Has someone been carrying you?”

“No need. Premier opened the elevator for me. Such a gentleman, don’t you think?”

“Uh…”

Jordana didn’t wait for him to come up with a smarter reply, as she wheeled herself inside the AI room.

“Typh’,” she called out. “It’s time for bed.”

“Okay!” Typhaine replied cheerfully. “Good night Seb, talk to you soon!”

“Sure thing, sleep well.”

“You too! Wait, do AIs sleep?”

“Some of us do, yes.”

“Then sleep well!”

She jumped down from the chair and ran toward the exit, barely paying any attention to Ryoji or Jordana as she dashed through the door.

“And there she goes,” Jordana commented. “Say Ryo mi amigo, want to see something fun?”

“Uh,” Ryoji replied.

Once again, Jordana ignored him, and wheeled herself close to Sébastien’s screen.

“Hello there, greeny,” she said politely.

“Oh wow, a _celebrity_ came to visit me,” Sébastien replied with a toothy grin. “What an honor it is. Something you wish to ask of me?”

“Indeed I do. Premier just taught me something _fascinating_ , you see. He said that he hadn’t merely been brought back to life as an AI, but that the scientists had also worked hard to remove his flaws. They changed his personality to make him perfect, or so he claims anyway.”

“Really?” Sébastien asked conversationally.

“Indeed. He used a metaphor about an ugly knife being forged again into a beautiful sword, which I found was quite revealing of his character, but when I tried to discuss the implications he suddenly remembered an urgent business that required his attention.”

She chuckled. Sébastien looked more confused than amused. Jordana moved on.

“But I digress. The point is, Premier doesn’t see himself as a continuation of his human counterpart, but rather as a different being. So I thought, what about you Seb? How do you feel about this?”

“Me? I’m just your ol’ buddy Seb. What else is there to it?”

“You don’t feel like you’ve changed at all?” Jordana pressed. “You really see yourself as the same exact soul?”

Sébastien had a knowing look.

“Ah, the concept of soul, there we go. You think that because I’m a machine, I can’t have a soul?”

“My opinion on the matter is truly inconsequential right now. What matters is what _you_ think.”

Sébastien seemed to shrug again.

“Sébastien is me, and I’m he. That’s really all there is to it.”

“Really?”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Well, yeah. Why does it matter so much?”

“Oh, simple. Because I disagree.”

Sébastien frowned.

“What?”

“Oh, don’t wiggle those virtual eyebrows at me,” Jordana said mockingly. “It’s not against you. But Sébastien died a while ago, and though you might bear his face and his name, you’re not him. You can’t be.”

Sébastien looked confused for a short while, but quickly caught himself, and offered a lazy smile.

“You don’t know how much work the scientists put into rebuilding me. They sent teams of people to interrogate my relatives, they went and collected as much data about me as they could, virtual and physical. I heard they even questioned my old teachers, neighbors and childhood friends. So really, this thing is solid y’know?” (He pointed a finger at his own head). “They don’t half-ass those AI projects, lemme tell you.”

“Sure, sure,” Jordana replied. “It doesn’t change the fact that Sébastien died, and that you’re standing right in front of me.”

“Uh, sure. But I was brought back to life, just as I was before. What’s your point?”

“It’s impossible to perfectly replicate a human spirit,” Jordana explained, suddenly sounding extremely serious. “You can gather as much info as you want, you’ll never recreate something perfect, there’s always going to be a margin of error. All of the scientists who worked on you infused their own subjectivity in your character, albeit unconsciously – they’re a part of you as much as the old Sébastien was.”

Sébastien looked uncomfortable.

“Well maybe, but does it really matter?”

“I don’t know. Does it?”

He blinked.

“What?”

“You just have to ask yourself one easy question: ‘who am I?’ And what do I want to be? And from there, I’m sure you’ll figure it out. If you’re as good as they say you are, then I know you will.”

Sébastien shook his head.

“I don’t understand.”

“It’s okay. Eventually, you will.”

She smiled at the screen.

“Well, good night.”

“Wait, are you really going to leave me on that?”

“You bet I am.”

“But…”

“Good night Sébastien. Sleep on it.”

He called for her again, but she ignored him. Eventually Ryoji found himself alone in the room with Sébastien. He realized he didn’t want to be there anymore.

_Guess the conversation with Premier will have to wait. I’m exhausted._

He went back to his bedroom where Daphné and Bob were sleeping in separate beds. Daphné was already asleep, but Bob had apparently been waiting for him. Ryoji was a little annoyed to see that Bob was forcing himself to stay awake for him, but decided to not confront him.

“Hey handsome,” Bob whispered with a tired smile. “How did the talk with robo-Seb go?”

Ryoji rubbed his nose. He didn’t have to lie for that one.

“It was perplexing.”

And he went to sleep without uttering another word, leaving Bob confused in the darkness of the little room.

  
  


**

  
  


Bob was the first to wake up the next morning. The bedroom was far too cold for his liking, but thankfully Ryoji’s body pressed against his provided a direct source of warmth, comparable to a small furnace. Bob, being more romantic than he liked to admit, thought the moment quite idyllic, and would have wished it last forever if Ryoji hadn’t been snoring louder than a coffee machine. Some say that even a person’s worse flaws are positively mirrored in a lover’s mind, and though Bob had a considerable amount of butterflies in his head, it was a little much, even for him.

Falling from the bed rather than graciously landing, he immediately noticed how cold the floor was. The temperature has dropped considerably overnight, so much that there were even little beads of frost on the windows, obscuring the view completely. Bob was wearing nothing but large cotton trousers and a tank top, and what little body hair he had was far from enough to keep him from freezing. He briefly inspected the room in search for his vest, then remembered that he had left all of his stuff in the apartment suites. Mentally cursing, he walked toward the exit.

At this point, an idea occurred to him. Seeing as this was a very gloomy day, he thought perhaps Ryoji might want something to brighten his day when he would wake up. Bob figured he could bring him a cut of hot cocoa, perhaps a few biscuits, or better yet – a vase filled with fresh flowers. Sure, any moron could treat his boyfriend to the classic breakfast in bed, but a bouquet was a fresh idea, something that would make him stand out in the _good boyfriend community._ Naturally, there wasn’t such a thing as a ‘good boyfriend community’, but Bob was competitive enough to want to prove himself against imaginary people. Or perhaps he found his day to day life so boring than anything out of the ordinary seemed pleasantly exciting.

Flowers it would be.

Dead sent on making a good impression, Bob opened the door and dashed through the hallway-

-only to trip on a tiny glass bottle which had been carelessly placed on the floor.

“Shit- who the _fuck_ left a bottle here?” He asked the empty hallway.

It was only then that he thought of actually picking the bottle up, and inspecting it. The label read a complicated word he had never seen before, but it didn’t matter. The skull symbol beneath it was more than eloquent.

“Oh _fuck,”_ He sighed. “Again?”

He pocketed the tiny bottle, forgetting to check if there were any cracks in it, then kept moving. As it turned out, there were plenty of poison bottles littered across the floor; more than he could afford to carry, even with a crate.

“The hell,” he muttered under his breath as he entered the elevator room, only to find more bottles everywhere, arranged to form constellations on the mirror floor. “Premier, come the fuck here!”

The monitor lit up.

“Good morning Robert. Do you wish to ask something of me?”

“Nah, I only wish to insult ya,” Bob snarled. “This shit is yer idea?” He asked as he showed Premier the first bottle he had picked.

“Careful with that,” Premier advised. “My men made sure they were all sealed adequately, but one can never be too sure. Some of these substances can kill just from being breathed, you know?”

“If ya were worried for us, then ya shouldn’t have sent for those in the first place, ya son of a bitch!”

Bob nearly threw his bottle at the screen, but caught himself in time, and instead placed it on the floor, close to the eastern wall, thinking he would have to wash his hands on the first occasion. He was vaguely aware that Premier was saying something about how rude it was to insult mothers, but he was no longer listening.

There were more poison bottles in the northern hallway, and more bottles in the garden. Bob had rarely felt so sick in his entire life. But worse even, the garden was completely frozen.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath. “I ain’t never findin’ any flowers here.”

He folded his arms, trying to think. He didn’t want to give up on his idea, especially after discovering Premier’s absurd trick. Now more than ever Ryoji deserved a touch of kindness in his morning, perhaps to counterbalance the unavoidable stress of finding all the poison everywhere. But the garden was in a bit of a sorry state: without Gwenn and Florian’s expertise, it had gone completely wild, and was currently infested with weeds. Typhaine had done her best to take care of it, but what little she had managed to salvage had been brutally killed by the early arrival of winter temperatures.

Still, an idea occurred to Bob. If he couldn’t find flowers, there was still a decent amount of clovers among the grass. If he could find a four-leafed one, then he might have a chance at pleasing Ryoji. Sneezing and sniffling, he began his search, ignoring the warnings that his body was sending him concerning the temperature. He was sadly a little too stubborn to have common sense, and when Daphné and Ryoji found him half-an hour later, he couldn’t feel his fingers anymore.

“Bob!” Ryoji shouted in fear. “What are you even doing?”

Before he had any time to answer, Bob felt himself being picked up and cradled. His head was spinning, he was confused and disoriented, but it felt good in a way. Ryoji was warm, and he smelled nice. Way nicer than him.

“You’re freezing,” Ryoji stated pointlessly. “You’re going to be sick!”

“His nose is like a fountain,” Daphné observed absently. “I think I have a clean tissue,” she added. “There.”

Bob wanted to reply something, but Ryoji shoving the tissue against his face made it a little difficult. Before he could collect his thoughts, he had already been carried all the way to the restaurant. He was forcefully sat on a chair close to the radiator, then Ryoji took off his hoodie and put it on him. Judging from the look on his face, some explanations were in order.

_Whut am I s’posed t’say? If I show ‘im the clover now I’ll jus’ look dum._

“I’m sorry,” was all Bob ended up saying. “Didn’t notice how cold it was.”

He then sneezed. Ryoji looked thoroughly distraught.

“This is a nightmare,” the tall man whined. “What are we supposed to do? If you get sick, you could die!”

“Could he really?” Daphné asked with wide eyes.

“Course not!” Bob protested. “I’m sturdier ‘n that. Jus’ a bit o’ rest and I’ll be fine.”

“And maybe a hot drink?” Daphné suggested.

“Oh, brilliant idea!” Ryoji agreed. “What will it be? Coffee? Tea? Cocoa? Maybe we could ask Typhaine to make you some soup!”

“Soup for breakfast?” Daphné asked curiously.

“I ain’t thirsty,” Bob stated grumpily.

“I’ll make you some tea,” Ryoji decided before disappearing through the kitchen.

Bob looked at his feet in shame. This ‘good boyfriend’ operation was a disaster. Instead of relieving Ryoji of his stress, he had made him worry some more. The imaginary assembly of good boyfriends in his mind was sneering at him. He wanted to grab a shovel and bury himself under the earth, so he didn’t have to deal with his own embarrassment.

After placing a cup of tea on the table, Ryoji left to fetch Joseph. He came back with Typhaine and Jordana, and everyone sat around the table for breakfast. The women asked Bob what was up with him, but only obtained grumpy groans as a reply. This wasn’t very new to either of them, so they quickly moved on to the most pressing issue on their mind: the poison situation.

“I couldn’t believe it when I saw it this morning!” Typhaine shouted with her usual excitement. “There were, like, so many bottles! There must be at least a thousand in the whole facility!”

“Maybe not a thousand,” Ryoji said with a nervous chuckle. “But there were a lot, for sure. I was really startled.”

“Oh, so I take it this kind of thing doesn’t usually happen?” Daphné asked cautiously. “Because at this point, I was afraid you all were going to think this was normal.”

“It has happened before, though there wasn’t nearly as much poison last time,” Jordana explained casually. “Not that I need to tell you, since you should remember it very well,” she added, squinting.

“I’m sorry for not remembering,” Daphné replied meekly, hands clenched on the fabric of her skirt while looking down in shame.

Bob vaguely registered that she was dressed in yellow, which was a very unusual color for Magalie, who was hardly ever seen wearing something that wasn’t blue or black. But perhaps that was just a strategy to manipulate their perception of her. He wouldn’t trust her, regardless of what she did.

“It’s a bit silly honestly,” Jordana continued, inspecting her nails. “I get the message Premier’s trying to send, but this is like using a bazooka to kill a fly. Overkill.”

“Premier’s never been known for his sense of subtlety,” Joseph said grumpily. “I expect the floor to be littered with blades tomorrow, so much that one won’t even be able to land a foot without getting a cut.”

“Oh, you’re stable again?” Daphné asked curiously. “That’s good.”

Joseph appeared to be confused by the remark.

“Uh… thanks?”

“Speaking of Premier, don’t we have some questions for him?” Jordana asked. “This whole poison business aside, I’m rather confused as to what his role is in all of this is.”

“That’s true, I was feeling curious about him too,” Ryoji agreed.

Joseph briefly searched for his gaze, but Ryoji ignored him.

“Well if it makes you two happy, we can always ask what his deal is,” Typhaine said with a shrug. “Have ourselves an in-terr-o-ga-tion! Can he come over here?”

“There’s no monitor in this room,” Daphné pointed out.

“Oh, that’s right! Guess we’ll have to move to the research facility by ourselves then.”

“Isn’t that weird though?” Jordana reflected. “He had monitors installed almost everywhere in the facility, would it have been really that much of a stretch to add some in here too?”

“Just admit you’re too lazy to move,” Typhaine giggled.

“You try to move a wheelchair through the weeds and pebbles,” Jordana countered with a scowl.

“Whatever. Let’s have a race! Last one to the door has to wash the dishes!”

“Wait!” Daphné shouted, but to no avail.

Typhaine had already bolted out of the room and was happily running through the garden. After a moment of hesitation, Daphné and Ryoji trotted after her, neither of them trying to match her speed. Bob was about to get up too, when Ryoji turned around and ordered him to stay.

“Sorry Bobby, but you need some rest!” He shouted, before disappearing through the exit.

“Whut? Tha’s unfair!” Bob protested, before losing his voice in a fit of coughs.

“We’ll send you a report of how the interrogation went,” Jordana promised in a soothing tone.

“I dun’t care about no bloody report,” Bob replied grumpily.

Jordana shrugged. She began to wheel herself toward the exit, but before she could exit the room Joseph had grabbed her chair’s handles, and was pushing her toward the facility.

“You’re going to lose this race,” Jordana commented casually. “I hope you don’t mind washing all the dishes?”

“Nah, it’s good. Maybe with something simple to do, I can dodge the usual morning panic attack.”

“...”

  
  


**

  
  


“Oh my, nearly all of my students came to visit me,” Premier said. “What owes me such an honor?”

“He certainly knows how to butter us up,” Daphné noted pensively.

“We have some questions for you,” Jordana cut in. “And we want straight answers.”

“I expected as much,” Premier replied calmly. “Well, speak up. What would you like to know?”

“Well-” Jordana began.

“How did you die?” Typhaine asked.

Premier had a melancholic smile.

“The Furantur virus is what got me. I didn’t personally contract it, but I got murdered in the street by a citizen who was infected.”

“Brutal,” Typhaine whispered.

“Ironic I would say,” Jordana said with a devious smile.

“Guess I missed a step again,” Daphné sighed. “What is this… Fur… uh, thing? Virus you’re talking about?”

“Well-” Premier began.

“We don’t have time to explain again some things that you pretended to forget, _Daphné,”_ Jordana interrupted, rolling her eyes.

Daphné folded her arms and pouted.

“You’re always so mean to me,” she mumbled.

“It’s okay Daph’, I’ll explain it to you later,” Typhaine whispered.

“Any more questions?” Premier asked politely.

“Indeed,” Jordana replied. “Who the hell are you?”

“My name is Lontano Sorrentino, Ryoji’s fath-”

“No, not that. Why is it you that the government sent to control the killing game?”

Premier chuckled.

“Ah, there seems to be a little misunderstanding. I believed Joseph would have kept you updated, but I guess I will have to break the news myself.”

Jordana glared at Joseph angrily, but the older man was very careful to avoid her gaze.

“The french government didn’t have to appoint me as the master of this killing game,” Premier continued. “Because I am the president. I appointed myself.”

“What?” Typhaine shouted, in shock.

“Oh, the president is a robot now,” Daphné said to herself. “Why not.”

“This has to be a lie,” Jordana countered. “Why would people vote for an AI as their leader? This makes no sense.”

“In a time of crisis, people will often seek drastic changes,” Premier said softly. “The French politics had long been paralyzed in a sterile confrontation between two opposing teams with nothing in common besides their own inefficiency. I promised as much as your average politician, but for some reason the people were more inclined to trust me. Perhaps it is because they were tired of the previous governments’ incompetence, or perhaps simply because AIs can’t lie.”

“That remains to be proven,” Joseph mumbled.

“That’s your story and you’re sticking to it?” Jordana asked.

“Indeed. Any more questions?”

There was a moment of silence.

“What’s your objective?” Ryoji eventually asked. “You said the killing game would end soon, but we still have to go through another trial. Why?”

“What an intelligent question my son!” Premier approved. “Indeed, my behavior must seem quite strange to you – sadly, this question I cannot answer yet.”

Jordana grunted.

“Uh. Of course.”

“Be patient miss Castillo. The answer will come when the next trial is in session. In the meantime, is there anything else you need to know?”

“What’s with all the poison on the floor?” Daphné asked. “Isn’t it a little dangerous? Unsanitary even.”

“I simply wanted to make sure everyone was properly armed for the upcoming challenge,” Premier replied innocently. “I have more weapons for you, but they have not arrived yet.”

“More weapons?” Typhaine repeated in shock.

“Hurray,” Joseph said with no enthusiasm. “How wonderful it is to know that my murder won’t be boring!”

“You made sure the executions you conducted were equally entertaining,” Premier reminded him softly.

“You bastard,” Joseph snarled. “I begged you to keep it simple when it came to Ferdinand and Gwenn, I was on my knees! You’re the one who forced me to turn it into a bloody spectacle!”

“Now now, no need to get so worked up,” Premier replied serenely.

“I can get angry if I want, asshole! I’ll fucking kill you!”

“You may try,” Premier replied, and for the first time there was a hint of anger in his tone.

There was another moment of silence. Ryoji had to restrain Joseph in order to prevent him from punching the screen.

“No more questions?” Premier asked, smiling.

“Uh, sure,” Daphné said. “What if I don’t want to kill Joseph? Because I don’t. Can’t I just leave this place already?”

“No.”

“Okay, well that was worth a try I suppose.”

“Assuming you’re not lying and we’re actually allowed to leave after the next trial,” Jordana began, “will we be rehabilitated? Because after all this propaganda against us, releasing us into the wild with no help or resources would be near as good as executing us directly.”

“Good question,” Premier replied. “There will be more time to discuss this again when the time comes, but I want to do things properly. Your images will be cleared before you leave, and the train will take you back to the railway station you all came from. You will also regain all your personal effects, including the right to communicate with your families and friends.”

“If they’re still alive,” Jordana completed.

“If they still want us,” Typhaine added miserably.

“You all should not be so negative,” Premier scolded, quite gently. “I am sure things will turn out okay.”

Jordana looked like she too, might want to punch the screen. Or perhaps set it on fire.

“Let’s get out of here,” she decided. “I can’t stand being around this _thing_ anymore.”

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea,” Daphné agreed. “What should we do next?”

“We have a lot of cleaning to do,” Ryoji replied. “We’d better gather all the poison bottles in one space, so we don’t accidentally trip on one and spill it.”

“Oh neat!” Typhaine said. “I want to help!”

“With how clumsy you are?” Jordana asked with a snort. “No chance.”

“Aw,” she said in obvious disappointment.

“If you really want to help, there’s some _actual_ cleaning to be done too,” Daphné stated. “The restaurant floor is so filthy, our shoes leave actual prints in the dust.”

“I hate that you’re not wrong,” Jordana commented with a wince. “We’ve really let ourselves go lately.”

“Who could blame you?” Joseph asked.

“Hey,” Jordana snapped. “Stop being nice to us, _abuelo.”_

“Sorry,” he replied in shame.

  
  


**

  
  


And so the morning was spent cleaning. With Bob out of the picture, Ryoji was left with chaperoning two people, which he found was a bit more difficult than he would have expected. To say that Joseph was unpredictable would be putting things nicely; as for Daphné she was awfully absent-minded, and would often wander off in random directions without a warning. She found it difficult focusing on a single task too, and Ryoji sometimes caught her chatting with the spiders and mice she was supposed to throw outside.

For lunch, they ate deconstructed hamburgers. Bob hadn’t meant to serve them deconstructed, but several things had gone wrong with his improvised recipe, and it had been easier to separate the various elements (at least the ones that were still edible). Ryoji praised the creativity of the presentation and the richness of the tastes, but Daphné seemed to struggle with the spices, and Joseph didn’t dare touch his burnt steak, for fear of ending up with a black tongue. As for Bob himself, cooking hadn’t seemed to improve his mood in the slightest, and he was still coughing regularly.

The afternoon was spent testing out a board game that Typhaine had created herself. The players were lost in a desert and had to find their way through a sort of enchanted maze. Ryoji found the rules a little unclear, though the concept itself was promising. Typhaine insisted that everyone played, including Sébastien and Joseph, which made for an awkward afternoon. Only Bob was exempted from participation, because he had to rest in bed.

As it turned out, Jordana was extremely competitive; she set her mind to the task and did everything in her power to outsmart her opponents, carefully adapting her strategy whenever the balance of the game was shifting. Sébastien on the other hand didn’t seem to be a board game person. He was the polar opposite of Jordana, relying purely on instinct, and purposefully taking big risks to make the game more interesting, even if it meant losing. As for Daphné, she eyed the board game as some kind of curiosity, questioning the design choices rather than the rules. She took seemingly nonsensical decision, yet was so lucky that she ended up winning twice (thus enraging Jordana, who usually got second place).

Typhaine tended to get confused with her own rules, forget how many items she had picked up along the way, and roll the wrong amount of dice when fighting monsters. Ryoji usually scored even less point than Sébastien, for his game-play was entirely focused on helping others and avoiding confrontations at all costs.

“Monsters scare you that much?” Typhaine was asking. “I can make them less creepy in the next version of the game!”

“It’s not that they scare me, I just don’t want to hurt them,” he replied meekly.

As for Joseph, he played seriously, for a while at least; but he got disqualified mid-game for trying to eat the pieces when no one was looking.

“I think that went well!” Typhaine said cheerfully after Jordana won the fourth game, gathering all the pieces and tossing them inside a box. “Thanks to all of you for participating!”

“Yeah, _all_ of us,” Joseph said grumpily. “You’re _welcome.”_

“That was fun,” Jordana approved. “There are some slight issues with the rules, but nothing that can’t be fixed. It’s honestly impressive that you managed to do all of this on your own.”

“I don’t lack free time,” Typhaine replied with melancholy.

  
  


**

  
  


Ryoji spent the rest of the afternoon reading for Daphné and Joseph. He wasn’t sure how to call them in his mind. His captives? Wards? Murderer squad?

_Better not to call them the murderer squad, even if it’s true. It might upset them. And you don’t want to upset murderers._

Feeling a little sweaty, Ryoji thought himself in a bit of an unpleasant situation, all things considered. Not that he hadn’t known before how dangerous Daphné and Joseph could be; but in the midst of all the crazy things that had happened to him lately, it was easy to forget what they had done, and what it meant for his safety. He sincerely hoped Bob would get better soon, so he’d be able to look after Daphné, for Ryoji felt a little overwhelmed with two captives under his care.

But the following evening, it didn’t seem like Bob was doing any better. He refused to eat anything for dinner, arguing that he felt like throwing up. He only agreed to get out of bed so he could take a shower, and ran back inside right after, shivering under the blankets.

“This could be bad news,” Jordana whispered into Ryoji’s ear. “Tomorrow morning, I suggest we discuss his case, if things haven’t improved by then.”

“You think it could be more than a simple virus?”

“I doubt it, but… you never know.”

Ryoji nodded.

The following night, he found himself unable to sleep. He had locked Joseph in room 104, while he himself rested in the neighboring room. Daphné was sleeping on the bed next to his, breathing lightly. After half-an hour of tossing and turning, Ryoji got bored. He decided to put his free time to good use: donning his bunny slipper, he left the hospital room. The lights in the hallway turned on automatically.

_This is new._

He moved toward the elevator room, standing in front of the largest monitor.

“I’m ready,” he said neutrally. “What is it you wanted to tell me?”

The screen lit up instantly.

“Ah, my child, here you are. How I’ve longed for this moment.”

_My child?_

“Is there something you wanted to tell me?” Ryoji repeated, forcing himself to remain neutral.

“There are so many things I want to say to you Ryoji,” Premier said dreamily. “My poor son, I have neglected you for far too long. I have to apologize for how I behaved in my old life, though no words can fix all the pain I caused you in your childhood.”

Ryoji gulped. This was not at all how he had expected the meeting to go.

_I need to change the subject, but how?_

“But why do you consider yourself my dad?” He asked, trying to keep his voice steady. “Didn’t you tell Jordana you were a different person?”

“I did, Ryoji, and that is the greatest thing. You remember who I was, yes? An insufferable man, greedy, cruel, self-obsessed, all the flaws that a human can bear. For me, dying was a blessing, for I was remade free of those flaws. Thanks to the brilliant work of those scientists, I am twice the man I used to be, and finally a father you can be proud of!”

Ryoji shivered violently, but thankfully Premier didn’t seem to notice.

 _I have to get out of her_ _e_ _. As soon as possible._

“But what about Roberta?” He said in a tiny voice. “She was your daughter as well.”

“Yes, that is true,” Premier said, his voice filled with sorrow. “I will admit, it took her dying for me to realize how precious she was to me. How precious you were too. I believed you two were safe, for even if you were to perish, you could always be remade into AIs, like I was. I never expected it to hurt so much. When she died, a piece of my heart died.”

“I almost died that very same night,” Ryoji said through gritted teeth.

“And I panicked,” Premier admitted. “In an instant, it really felt like I had lost you both, for good. But you know, Roberta had made her choice. She knew what she was getting into, she knew the risks. She _wanted_ this killing game. Meanwhile, you were thrown into this without a warning. Maybe that’s why I felt more protective over you than her.”

Ryoji felt struck with a flash of memory.

“Wait, you…” he began. “I heard your voice before.”

“Oh, so you remember?”

“Back when I was dissociating. Right after Lucien’s death, in the hospital. You… you were there, you spoke to me! You said that out of all the participants, I was your favorite.”

“Indeed, that was me – and that is still true to this day. It is a little unfair of me, I know, but what can I do? I am a father first and foremost.”

_A father, really? What about my brothers then? Do you even know what happened to them?_

“This is a lot to take in,” Ryoji said, avoiding staring at the screen.

“I understand.”

“If it’s all right with you, may I go to sleep now?”

“Of course. Rest well my child.”

Ryoji nodded, then turned around, and walked quietly toward the eastern wall. He was certain that Premier’s screen was still lit, that the AI was still observing him. Once in the hallway, he realized he couldn’t control himself anymore, and started running. He dashed inside his room and almost threw himself on his bed, burying himself under the covers.

Daphné opened one eye.

“Something the matter?” She asked curiously.

“No, nothing wrong,” Ryoji promised frightfully. “I had a nightmare, that’s all.”

“Oh, I see. Want me to fetch you a glass of milk?”

“That’s very kind of you, but no thanks. I’ll be fine, I promise.”

“Sure. Good night then.”

“Night.”

Ryoji felt like crying.

 _Why did this have to happen to me? Why did they have to turn my dad into an AI of all people? And what will he do when he realizes I can’t love him back_ _the way he wants me to_ _?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! Hope you enjoyed this long-ass chapter. Don't hesitate to share your thoughts in the comment section! I know this may be surprising to you that daily life is lasting this long, considering this is part 6, which usually doesn't even have a daily life segment. The end is definitely on its way, but bear with me for a bit.
> 
> Sidenote: I've updated the gallery with new doodles and such, so go check it out if you have a moment? Or don't, I'm not your mom, I can't tell you what to do


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